Harry Potter and the Thief of Hearts
by QTmadeline87
Summary: It's Harry Potter's 5th year at Hogwarts, but it's not all studies. Voldemort is rising again, and Harry has got to destroy him... with the help of a most unlikely ally.
1. Chapter 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: One of the interesting things about this story is the fact that it uses flashbacks and multiple points of view. If you get confused (which you shouldn't, unless you're about eight, in which case you shouldn't be reading this anyway) just reread the part that confused you; you'll get it. Each point of view is separated by three asterisks (***). Enjoy!

CHAPTER 01

Harry's eyes sprang open as he awoke from a dream. It was an odd dream; he'd been flying on his Firebolt through a forest when his broomstick began to buck and thrash around. He'd been thrown off of it, and fell to the ground with a sickening 'thump'.

Then he woke up. Harry pressed his fingers to his scar, but it wasn't burning. "Good," Harry thought to himself, "At least Voldemort wasn't involved." Harry's eyes were burning, however.

In fact, Harry's head was pounding. And he felt somewhat nauseous… Harry began to think he might have the flu. He groaned as he looked at his calendar. It was his fifteenth birthday. He looked over to the electronic clock on his desk; it was 9:00 A.M.

Just then, there was a tapping on his window. Harry glanced up to see a tawny owl hovering outside on the other side of the glass. Harry stood up too quickly; he felt dizzy and had to lean onto his bed frame. He took a deep breath and opened his window to admit the owl. Hedwig, Harry's snowy owl, let out a hoot of contempt at the intruder.

The tawny owl ignored Hedwig and landed on Harry's desk. Harry knew immediately where the letter came from. The green ink on the parchment envelope was unmistakable. It was a Hogwarts letter.

**__**

Mr. H. Potter

Still the Smallest Bedroom

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

Hogwarts letters were always either very good news… or very, very bad news. Harry opened up the letter apprehensively.

****

Dear Mr. Potter:

We are pleased to inform you ("Well… that's a good start," thought Harry,**) that you have been appointed a fifth-year prefect of Gryffindor House. In addition, we are also very happy to tell you that Madam Hooch has recommended that you receive the position of Quidditch Captain for the Gryffindor House team.**

Your silver prefect badge is enclosed. Please respond with an owl with your response as to whether or not you will be accepting these prestigious positions. Should you choose not to accept the position of prefect, please re-enclose the badge and send it back. Should you choose to accept the position, please wear your badge on 01 September to King's Cross Station. Thank you, and we look forward to hearing from you soon and seeing you on 01 September for the start of term. 

Professor Minerva McGonagall

Harry stared at the parchment in awe. Quidditch captain?! Prefect?! Harry couldn't believe it…

Without thinking about the possible consequences, Harry ran down the stairs and into the kitchen. Uncle Vernon was sitting at the kitchen table, eating eggs and bacon. Dudley sat at the table as well, munching on buttered toast. Dudley, who was still on a diet, had in all actuality, lost a very considerable amount of weight over the previous school year. He'd been on a very strict dietary regimen at his school, Smeltings. He was certainly not thin, like Harry, but not the size of a whale, as he'd been before. He, too, was fifteen.

Aunt Petunia stood at the counter, flipping pancakes. Harry didn't notice that yet another person sat at the kitchen table…

"Uncle Vernon! Uncle Vernon!" Harry came bounding towards the table. "I've just received an owl, and I've been made prefect AND Quidditch captain! Dudley! Can you believe it?"

Uncle Vernon's face turned a deep red and his nostrils flared with anger. Dudley's face assumed a look of horror. A newspaper on the opposite side of the table was lowered and a curious, shocked look was revealed upon the face of a girl who looked to be fourteen. Harry had the odd feeling he'd seen the girl before.

"Er…" Harry stammered, "Er- I…" He felt his cheeks flush and cleared his throat nervously.

__

"Now I've really blown it," thought Harry.

The girl raised a thin eyebrow.

"What are you talking about?" Uncle Vernon snapped, giving Harry a very conspicuous look in which his eyes and chin jerked toward the girl at the table. "Stop this nonsense. We have a guest," he snarled viciously.

"Erm… I was j-just t-talking about something… somewhat unique to Hog- to my school!…" He looked and the girl, who had narrowed her large eyes. Harry decided to change the subject. "Who's this?"

"This is my niece and Dudley's cousin, Nora." Uncle Vernon gestured toward the girl. Aunt Petunia had stopped flipping pancakes and was staring at Harry with hateful eyes.

"Hello," Nora said with a small smile, turning to Uncle Vernon, "Uncle Vernon," she lowered her voice, and Harry pretended not to be able to hear. "Who is this?" Harry once again had an odd feeling that Nora really didn't need to find out who Harry was. Harry searched his mind for a name, a face, anything about this girl… but she had a Scottish accent, she couldn't have been from around here at any point. Family reunion? No… Harry had been shut up in rooms or cupboards far from the sight of the "Normal" Dursleys… Christmas, perhaps? No… Christmas was nothing more to Harry these past four years than a time to receive a paper clip or maybe some vile socks via post from the Dursleys, and to celebrate the fact that he wasn't with them, as he never received gifts anyway, let alone the mountain of presents he remembered had always been under the tree, each one marked, "For Dudley-kins from Mummy and Daddy" or even (though Harry knew Dudley only *pretended* to believe in Santa Claus to obtain more gifts) "To The #1 Name on the Good Boy List, Dudley Dursley… From Santa Claus." Harry had always chuckled at that. The least Santa could do is give me coal, Harry thought, to let me know I was on *some* list, be it the bad boy list…

"Nora," Uncle Vernon sighed, "This is Dudley's cousin Harry. Harry Potter. His mother was Petunia's sister."

"Oh!" A look of pity crossed Nora's face. "You're the poor little boy who had to go to St. Brutus' Center for Incurably Criminal Boys…"

"What?" Harry raised his eyebrows.

Uncle Vernon shot Harry a death look.

"Oh yeah… that's me. Incurably criminal."

There was an awkward pause. No one wanted to seem to delve deeper into the subject. Harry continued mumbling,

"Fires and… stealing and… stuff. Yeah. Well… I'll just… go…" Harry turned and left for lack of anything else to say and a true desire not to discuss WHY he was supposedly 'incurably criminal' any more. He went upstairs and pulled out a parchment. He wrote a letter back to the Hogwarts administration telling them he'd be accepting the positions of prefect and Quidditch captain. He'd just sent the school owl back when he noticed something at his door. The door was open just a tiny bit, and a pair of large eyes was peeking through the crack.

"Nora!" Harry rushed over to the door and opened it.

"I-I-I'm sorry!" Nora sounded frightened. "I saw your owl before and I…"

"You were wondering what I was doing with an owl," Harry finished. "They're not normal pets, are they?"

"Well… no. May I come in?" Nora asked timidly.

Harry opened the door a bit and said, "Don't touch anything." Then, without thinking, Harry did possibly the most stupid thing he could have ever done. "I'll be right back." He went downstairs to talk to Uncle Vernon… and left Nora in his room. Alone.

"Uncle Vernon, I'm sorry about what I said. I didn't mean to embarrass you in front of Nora," Harry ventured.

Uncle Vernon grunted.

"Aunt Petunia?" Harry turned to his aunt.

"Go upstairs, Harry. Don't leave her there by herself. We saw her go in, you know. We're not stupid."

Harry doubted this, but since Aunt Petunia sounded angry, Harry turned and went upstairs.

When Harry returned to his room, he gasped. Nora stood at his desk, examining his textbooks from his fourth year..

"Are these next year's books, then? Well, I'm taking Arithmancy, not Divination, but…"

Harry nearly fell over. "Nora! How… You… you're a witch!"

Nora turned around and gave Harry a small, innocent smile. "And you're a wizard."

Harry tried to process the fact that yet another relative of the Dursleys could possibly be magical. He grinned. "You go to Hogwarts?"

"Aye. I'm a fourth-year Ravenclaw." Nora smiled again. "You're a fifth-year Gryffindor."

"Yes. Yes I am. You know of me?"

"Who doesn't?" Nora laughed. "You're Harry Potter!" She grinned at him with admiration.

Harry gave a modest look and waved away Nora's flattering gaze. "St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys…" he mumbled with a crooked grin, then he chortled.

"Not nearly as bad as the one me parents made up," Nora set down Harry's Potions book. "They said I'd been sent to the Franciscan Sisters Convent in Majorca. My parents just wanted an excuse to travel to Majorca on holiday; they say they're visiting me. All the while I have to pretend I want to be a nun!"

Harry laughed.

"I don't even believe that Nun rubbish anymore," Nora continued. Then, remembering it was not customary for witches and wizards to discuss religion, she changed the subject. "You know, when you mentioned Quidditch, that's why I looked up. I knew it was a wizard, of course. And when I saw yer face I nearly gasped and burst out, ''Harry Potter!', but Uncle Vernon mustn't know I'm a witch. You know how all the Dursleys are." She groaned with a small smile. "You've met Aunt Marge, I s'pose…?"

Harry sighed. "Yes, I've met Aunt Marge," he mumbled, "Crazy old bat. Hates me, she does. Every time she comes over she makes sure they're punishing me enough at St. Brutus'. Doesn't hesitate to make her dog chase me up a tree or hit me, either way."

"She nearly found me out last summer. Had to throw my cauldron into my closet to cover for myself. She came into the room without knocking, and I was doing homework, Snape's, you know. It was an unfinished potion, so of _course_ it burned a hole in my carpeting I couldn't fix, not on vacation, since we're not allowed to. Those are the times I wish my parents weren't Muggles. Aunt Marge never mentioned it again. But she noticed the smell. I was adding asphodel to cream of Bubotubor pus and powdered beetles."

"Ewww…" Harry wrinkled his nose. "Mixed with powdered beetles, that stuff smells terrible."

"But does Snape care?"

"No."

Nora's grin faded. "I only brought my wand and my cat, Poseidon. I named him that because he's odd; he likes water." Nora sighed. "I don't know how I'm going to finish Snape and McGonagall's homework; I'm going back home on the thirty-first of August, Uncle Vernon's driving me back, says he's got to go to London anyway."

Harry thought for a moment. "You know, we could tell them."

"Tell who? Tell them what?"

"Tell Uncle Vernon you're a witch. You see, they've got to take me to London on the twenty-ninth. I'm going to Diagon Alley to get new robes, then I'm going to King's Cross on the first of September. Why don't you, when we bring you back home, grab your things and come back to London with us. I've got two rooms in the inn at Diagon Alley; one for me and one for my best friend Ron. Ron and I could share a room and you could take the other."

"Oh, Harry, really?" Nora was aghast.

"Yes, and meanwhile, I'll help you with your homework, I've got my fourth-year books here somewhere."

"Oh… Harry! That's so gen'rous of you!"

"Let's go, then."

The two of them headed downstairs and into the kitchen. Aunt Petunia was now hovering over Dudley, pressing him about some girl named Yvette who'd apparently been calling on the telephone quite often.

"Uncle Vernon…?" Nora ventured sheepishly.

"Yes, Nora?"

"I've got some… erm… shocking news for you…"

Uncle Vernon looked up. He looked from Harry to Nora and back again. Aunt Petunia looked at Nora as well, and Dudley stared curiously. Uncle Vernon returned his eyes to the paper, though Harry knew he wasn't really reading; his eyes weren't moving. He grunted to let Nora know to continue.

Nora sighed nervously. She held her chin up and said confidently, "I'm a witch."

There was a dead silence. Then Uncle Vernon burst out laughing, an evil laugh. The suddenness of the outburst made Harry jump.

"I don't know what nonsense Harry's been feeding you, Nora, but there are no such things as witches. That's nonsense."

"No such things as witches?!" Harry yelled, "My mum was a witch, you can't deny it!"

"DO NOT SPEAK ANY MORE OF YOUR… YOUR ABNORMALITY!" Uncle Vernon bellowed. "NOT IN MY HOUSE!" Then, seeing he seemed to be losing this battle, Uncle Vernon barked, "THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS MAGIC!"

Nora put her hands on her hips. "Now, really, Uncle Vernon. Be reasonable. _Please. _I'm a witch. I can do potions and transfiguration and charms and hexes and everything."

"And we can fly," Harry piped up. He always loved throwing in extra things for good measure, or extra Dudley-Scare as case may be.

Uncle Vernon stopped laughing. "Petunia," he mumbled, looking to his wife, who stood frozen at the stove, the grilled cheese she was making Dudley burning.

"Muuuum!" Dudley wailed as he saw the burning sandwiches.

"Uncle Vernon. I attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…"

Uncle Vernon twisted his face and his eye twitched in horror…

"Same school as Harry. I need to leave off of platform 9¾ at King's Cross to get there, and when I do, I'm a Ravenclaw."

"A _what?_"

"A Ravenclaw. Harry's a Gryffindor."

"What the devil is a Racingclaw or a Gryffoodoor? Dare I ask?"

"Ravenclaw, Uncle Vernon, and Gryffindor are houses. At Hogwarts-"

Uncle Vernon had heard enough. "All right! All right!" His face turned the colour of spoiled milk.

He cleared his throat. Aunt Petunia was staring at both of the children with a look of pure contempt and disgust, as if they were a filthy bit of rubbish, like a rotten banana peel in the middle of her perfectly cleaned and vacuumed living room.

"What the Hell…?" Dudley whispered, narrowing his piggy eyes at the two other children.

There was another silence. Harry explained their plan to Uncle Vernon, who reluctantly agreed.

Dudley sneered, "Am I the _only _sane cousin here?" 

"We're not insane," Harry said calmly. "We're… erm… different, I suppose. You might say gifted-"

"Gifted! Pshaw!" Aunt Petunia curled her top lip. Harry was strongly reminded of Snape. "Being some sort of… pagan-"

"_We're not pagans!_"

"Well you're certainly not good practicing Christians!" Aunt Petunia's nostrils flared.

Harry shrugged calmly, knowing it was no use. "I don't think that should matter. We're going upstairs to do our homework."

From an objective opinion, Nora was very pretty. She was small for a fourteen-year-old, thin and short. She had smooth golden-blonde hair that reached the middle of her back and cascaded over her shoulders. Her wide turquoise eyes and long mascara'd lashes looked curious and interested. She had a long slim nose and a little grin in which one corner of her mouth rose higher than the other. She spoke with a graceful Scottish accent; she was from Glasgow. Nora Cardeen wore a V-Neck gray shirt and jeans.

Harry'd grown much more attractive over the summer, too. His once-ragged brown hair was still messy and shaggy, but in a stylish way. It suited his personality. His green eyes shown bright under his round glasses. He was thin but muscular and had grown taller. He had a smile that could weaken knees.

"So you're a prefect, Harry?" Nora asked politely after Harry had helped her complete her homework assignment.

"Apparently. Sent my owl back just today telling them I'd accept."

"And Quidditch Captain! Well, I've no surprise about that. You've got a big future in Quidditch, Harry."

Harry grinned modestly again. "I certainly hope so."

Just then, another owl swooped through Harry's window, carrying a letter. Another floated in close behind it, with a package in its talons.

"Well, Harry, I'll let you open your post… fans, no doubt. Just kidding! I've got to go to lunch with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Marge. She's in town, you know." Nora waved goodbye to Harry, but first glanced at his calendar. Today was circled and 'Happy Birthday Harry' was written on the block of the date. "Happy birthday, Harry." Nora raised her eyebrows and smiled.

Harry grinned, thanked Nora, and waved goodbye.

He opened the first owl's gift, a large envelope. Inside were two letters. The first, he recognized, was in Ron's writing.

****

Dear Harry,

Happy birthday! Lucky me, I was already fifteen J . Hermione's here, (spending more time with Ginny than me, of course…) would you like to come towards the end of summer?

I've got something very, very important to tell you… you'll be delighted, I'm sure.

By the way, Hermione would like to come with us to stay the last night in Diagon Alley; we'll have to share a room.

Write back soon with your response as to if you can come or not. If you can come, we'll come and get you by Floo powder. (You may want to make sure the fireplace is clear this time J )

Happy birthday, again. Congratulations on making prefect and Quidditch captain! (It was in the Daily Prophet; All of them were listed.) You deserve it. J

Ron

The second letter was from Hermione.

__

Dear Harry,

A very happy birthday to you. I hope it's been pleasant. I do hope you can join us at the Burrow, it's ever such a good time, as you well know.

I heard you got prefect… I did as well. I'm just so pleased. Ron's a bit peeved, of course, but keeps insisting he doesn't want the position because of Percy, you know. Oh well… perhaps he'll get Head Boy 7th year, eh?

I'm very happy for you about getting Quidditch captain as well. That's excellent! You sure you can juggle all of that, though? I believe you are fully capable. Just mind you keep your grades up. Did you finish your homework, Harry? *Get it done!* I know you haven't finished it, I know you too well for that. I finished the History of Magic essay for Professor Binns, but It's only two feet longer than what he asked for… the Snape homework, of course, requires an ingredient that I didn't have any left of, so I had to go all the way to Diagon Alley to get some more and… and I'm babbling about school work again, aren't I? ("Yes, Hermione, you are…" Harry thought with a small smile)

__

The Weasley twins, needless to say, are a bit peeved that they're seventh years and neither one is captain, but they both are happy it's you instead of Angelina or Katie (The chauvinists, they just want a boy as captain) and so they're happy for you and know you deserve it.

I'll hopefully see you at the burrow and I will see you in Diagon Alley for sure.

Until then,

Hermione

P.S. Your gift from Ron and me is with the second owl. I hope you'll like it, and I think you'll find it useful for practicing… have I said too much?

Harry opened the parcel the second owl had brought. It was a box filled with the four Quidditch balls (One Red leather Quaffle, two stone brown Bludgers, and the tiny Golden Snitch), strapped into the case for safety, and brand-new and shining. Not a single dent or scratch on a one of them, Harry thought. The school sets were all so beat up, the Bludgers didn't even fly where the beaters hit them anymore, and the Quaffle didn't float like it was supposed to; it fell too fast. Luckily for Harry, the Golden Snitch was fine. Though, he hadn't played Quidditch at Hogwarts for over a year…

It was a glorious birthday. Harry had a present from Hagrid as well -- homemade rock cakes.

"Well," Harry thought, "It's the thought that counts."

He sent a reply back to Ron, telling him to come by Floo powder. After corresponding with him for a few days they'd established a plan. The new plan was that Nora, who was leery about staying at the Weasleys' when she knew only Ginny (and wasn't really friends with Ginny as they were in different houses), would be taken to London by Uncle Vernon on the thirty-first. She'd buy whatever she needed to and meet Ron and Hermione and the inn. She'd stay in a room with Hermione, and Ron and Harry would share a room. The next morning, Ginny and the twins and Mrs. Weasley would meet them at King's Cross and they'd head off to school. But before all of this, Harry would be going to the Burrow in four days.

Ron seemed very interested in Nora. He said he knew of her, but had never really met her.

Harry also found out Ron's big news, and he WAS delighted.

Hermione had a crush on Harry.

***

"Ron, how could you tell him?!"

"Hermione, I'm sorry…" Ron struggled to stifle his laughter.

Hermione sniffled stiffly. "Mm hmm," she said primly. "And I'm sure you thought about how it would make me feel, as long as you got to see Harry's reaction. Ron, we're all three of us best friends! But can't I tell you anything without having to worry you'll go and blab on me?"

"No." Ron chuckled, but seeing the look of horror on Hermione's face, he sobered up. "Look, Hermione, I'm really, really sorry. Truly."

Hermione scrunched up her face and rubbed her eyes as if she had a very bad headache, and at the same time was trying to decide whether to let Ron live or die.

"All right…" Hermione began, (Ron mouthed the word, "Yes!" to himself…) "I forgive you."

"Oh, thank you, Hermione!" Ron ran up to Hermione and was about to give her a bear hug when Ginny opened the door and came in.

"Ginny, didn't I tell you not to come in unless you've first knocked?"

Ginny whistled at the sight of Ron about to pick Hermione up playfully. "I'm fourteen, Ron, not five. I don't have to knock."

"You do, though!" Ron frowned.

Ginny shook her head, grinned devilishly, and Hermione knew Ginny'd won.

"Well, anyway, what do you want, Little Miss Fourth-Year-Who's-Got-A-Fifth-Year-Boyfriend?" asked Ron.

Ignoring Ron's comment at first, Ginny turned to Hermione. "Mum sent me to let you know -- Dad went to go get Harry and-"

"Today?!" Hermione shrieked. "Now?!"

Ginny nodded but wrinkled her eyebrows and continued, "So, Ron, you've got-"

"He wasn't supposed to be here until tomorrow!" Hermione squealed.

"Hermione, would you shut up and stop interrupting?" said Ron irritably.

Hermione shut up.

"Anyway, Ron, you've got to clean up around here…" Ginny curled her lip and wrinkled her nose at the plate of food that had been sitting on Ron's desk for three days.

Ron stood up and threw the plate away.

"Done," said Ron, grinning innocently.

Ginny sighed in exasperation and tutted. "I've got to go, I'm going to go de-gnome the garden… Hermione," she said, "Your hair looks fine."

"Does it? You sure?" Hermione was holding a mirror in front of her, running a brush through her long, sleek hair that Mrs. Weasley had cast a straightening spell upon. (Mrs. Weasley did it because Hermione wasn't allowed to, being underage.) The mirror did a quick examination of Hermione, then words popped up onto the glass in curly blue writing,

**__**

"Your hair looks lovely. Put on more eye liner. Your lipstick is fine. Put a nice pin in your hair, and take off some of that eye shadow. Next time, get a shade darker of foundation; You've tanned since the last time you used it."

"Well… mirror's orders," Hermione sighed. The mirror was a ProFriend 02, a staple in every 15-year-old witches' vanity. Hermione followed the mirror's directions and tried not to look as though she were in desperate anticipation of Harry's arrival.

"Hermione, you idiot, calm down! It's just Harry!" Ron looked disgusted.

Hermione calmed down. "You're right, Ron. Harry's seen me loads of times. Why is this time any different?

Ron shrugged. He turned to Ginny, who was leaving to go spend the night at a friend's.

"See you, Ginny," he said.

"See you, Fifth-Year-Who-Doesn't-Have-A-Fifth-Year-Girlfriend."

***

Meanwhile…

Harry packed the last of his potions ingredients into his cauldron with his textbooks, and loaded the cauldron into the trunk with his robes, wand, dragon-hide gloves, and other school supplies. He was expecting the Weasleys to be here to get him at any moment. A thought struck Harry… Hermione would be at the Burrow.

His heart jumped.

Harry snapped himself back to reality as a knock sounded on his door. It was Nora.

"'Lo, Nora."

"Don't you mean, 'G'bye, Nora?'"

"Well… yes…I suppose."

"Have a nice time with the Weasleys."

"Sure you don't want to go, then?"

Nora shook her head. "No. You're lucky, got friends who'll take you in. I don't have an owl so I haven't even talked to any of my friends all summer."

"From what I hear, you're quite popular at Hogwarts."

Nora flushed. "You could say that, I s'pose." Harry noticed that her accent was sort of like Hagrid's, only much prettier, considering it was a girl talking. Her speech all flowed together and she silenced her H's.

"But you're *sure* you don't want to come?"

"Positive, thanks, Harry. I'll be fine, dun' you worry. Came t'say G'bye, though, goin to lunch and you're leaving. I'll see you on the thirty-first, eh?"

Harry nodded. Nora turned to go, then paused. "You sure are lucky, Harry. Life with the Dursleys or anyone like them… t'aint easy. No, t'aint easy."

She left. Harry wondered what she meant. He'd always known the Dursleys were evil, but was Nora being abused?

He didn't really have time to consider this, though, because he heard a clamor in the living room below, and Aunt Petunia's screams.

Mr. Weasley had arrived.

Harry grabbed his trunk and Hedwig's cage and hurried (as fast as one lugging an extremely heavy trunk can hurry) down the stairs.

"Hello, Mr. Dursley, Arthur Weasley, we met last year. I'm here to pick up Harry."

"Oh, yes. Wait just a moment please."

From the semi-civil conversation going on, Harry assumed that this year's Floo Powder trip had gone much more smoothly than the previous year's… Harry remembered the Ton-Tongue Toffee Dudley had eaten, and the big fuss everyone made on how to remove the three-foot tongue Dudley had obtained from the snack devised by the Weasley twins.

"'Lo, Mr. Weasley," Harry smiled and waved as he descended the stairs.

"All right, Harry?"

"Yes, and you?"

"Great. Ready to go?"

"Definitely." Harry turned to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. "G'bye, then, see you next June, eh?"

The two nodded and Uncle Vernon said something gruffly under his breath that sounded somewhat like "Have a good term," or at least that's what Harry hoped he'd said. Harry didn't bother saying goodbye to Dudley; chances were he was eating in the kitchen and didn't want to be disturbed.

Mr. Weasley led Harry to the fireplace. He threw in a pinch of Floo Powder, and the fire flared up, a bright Kelly green.

"You first, then, Harry," Mr. Weasley said politely.

Harry stepped into the fire and shouted, "THE BURROW!"

Harry saw the many grates whizzing past him, like they always did when traveling by Floo Powder. Soon, he found himself hurling out of the fireplace in the living room of the Burrow. Hedwig's cage fell over and she let out a loud hoot of discontent. As soon as Harry had stood up and brushed off and righted Hedwig's cage, he stepped out of the way. A moment later, Mr. Weasley came through the fireplace.

Mrs. Weasley bustled into the room and over to Harry. She gave him a tight hug. "Oh, Welcome Back, Harry."

They were the sweetest words Harry could think of. The Burrow was Harry's favorite place in the whole world… well, except for Hogwarts, that is.

Mrs. Weasley let go of Harry and walked to the foot of the stairs. She screamed up to the top,

"Ron! Ginny! Fred! George! Hermione! Harry's here!"

Hermione.

Harry's heart leapt again.

The four redheaded Weasleys came bounding down the stairs. Hermione followed, walking a bit more slowly.

When the light fell upon her face, Harry was shocked.

Her hair, once wild and untamed, was straight and beautiful. She had a bit of makeup on, and Harry barely recognized her. She was radiant.

"'Oy, Harry!" Ron clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry was still looking at Hermione, who nervously tucked a bit of hair behind her ear and looked straight ahead.

"How've you been, Harry?" said either Fred or George.

"Had a good holiday?" said the other twin.

Hermione turned and met Harry's gaze. She smiled.

"I - I'm doing great," Harry said, almost in a whisper. Mesmerized by Hermione's appearance as well as the new way she carried herself, tall and proud instead of shy and scared, he couldn't rip his eyes off of her.

"Miss me, Harry?" Hermione asked.

All Harry could do was nod.

Hermione grinned widely and gave Harry a hug. Harry held on to her tightly, not wanting her to let go. And they stood there, in an embrace. Eventually, Ron cleared his throat and said,

"All right, you two, you have to come up for air some time."

Hermione and Harry started laughing.

"SUPPER'S READY!" Mrs. Weasley called from the kitchen.

"Good, I'm starved," Ron said, and the Weasleys headed into the kitchen, leaving Harry and Hermione in the living room.

"I'll be right in, Ron," Harry said.

Ron grinned.

Hermione and Harry stood at each other for a long time. Hermione bit her lip and shuffled her feet.

"So…" they both said at the same time, then started laughing.

"Thank you for the birthday present," said Harry.

Hermione nodded.

"Harry! Hermione! Supper's on the table!" It was Ginny, standing in the doorway and smiling. "Mum said to break you two up." She left.

"Well, let's go eat then, shall we?" Hermione suggested.

The last thing on Harry's mind right now was food, but he nodded anyway.

Hermione turned, then hesitated. She turned back around and gave Harry a quick kiss on the cheek. She flushed red as she realized what she'd just done, and turned away again.

Harry caught her arm and turned her around. He held her close to him and kissed her gently on the lips. Hermione smiled. They both jumped when they saw Ron in the doorway.

"Would you two come--" Ron stopped. His eyes bugged out of his head as he beheld the scene in front of him: Hermione standing wrapped up in Harry's arms. "On?" Ron finished in a whisper.

Harry nodded and smiled. He drew away from Hermione and walked into the kitchen without looking back. Hermione came to the table about ten seconds later.

No one mentioned anything about it during dinner. No one mentioned anything about it before bed. No one mentioned it until very, very early morning, when Harry was awakened by a knock on the door.

There stood Hermione, dressed in pajamas. She smiled and said, "Morning, Harry."

Harry was overjoyed. Hermione had woken up early to come and see him. "Morning, Hermione."

"Would you like to come and watch the sunrise with me?" Hermione asked meekly.

Harry nodded and took Hermione's hand. She led him out through the window and onto the roof.

"Wow… you come out here a lot? It's gorgeous," Harry breathed. He paused and looked at Hermione. "Just like you."

Hermione's face went deep red. She smiled modestly. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out.

Harry, still groggy and sleepy, laid down onto his back and gazed up and the pink sky.

Hermione looked as though she were thinking about doing something; she bit her lip and her eyes darted around madly.

Suddenly, Hermione leaned down and kissed Harry softly on the lips. She closed her eyes and grinned. Harry grinned back.

He pulled her down and laid her head on his chest. He ran his fingers through her sleek brown hair.

Harry blinked his green eyes up at the sun, which was rising above the tree tops now. He heard Hermione's breathing; it was slowing. After a bit, Harry twisted his neck to look at Hermione's face. Her eyes were closed.

"Hermione?" Harry whispered, but no response; she was asleep.

***

Hermione never had terribly strange dreams, but this was a special occasion; she'd never laid her head down on Harry's chest, either. Hermione had been lying there, watching the sunrise with Harry, when she'd fallen asleep. Her nap was plagued with an odd reverie:

__

"Let go of the ring, silly girl." The drawling voice was growing nearer. "Take it off. Now."

"Never," Hermione gasped, clutching her left hand to her chest and touching the ruby with her right index finger. She felt all of the strength leaving her body. If she just took the ring off… she could be strong again, but the man would grow strong as well. No… she'd always told herself she would die to save Harry, but now she knew the truth… he had died to save her. There had been no accident. If she left the ring on, she would soon be with Harry.

"Hermione!"

"Harry?" Hermione wheezed, looking around frantically. "Is that you?"

"Help me, Hermione… please."

"Where… are… you…?" Hermione whispered.

"Beside you, Hermione…help me, please…"

"It's too late, Harry, he's already come."

There was a deadly silence, then the sound of running footsteps.

"Harry?"

Silence.

"Harry!"

The silence pierced Hermione's heart and she just wanted to let go of everything. A silent tear burned Hermione's cheek as she thought of Harry deserting her.

"Harry! Please! Don't run away!"

"That was not Harry running away, foolish girl, it was me approaching. You're even more stupid than I thought." The man gave Hermione a sharp kick in the ribs and she yelped like a wounded puppy. She collapsed and closed her eyes.

"Take the ring off!"

"Why… do you want… me… alive?" Hermione tried to look up at the man. "Why… don't you want me… dead?"

"We have some things to ask you." The man grinned maliciously.

"I know nothing… about Harry." Hermione was speaking so quietly she could barely hear herself.

"I'm sure, my dear, that under -- oh, the Cruciatus Curse, perhaps, you'd contain invaluable information for my Lord."

"No… I know nothing…"

The man hadn't heard Hermione; he was mumbling to himself, "Blast that ring, the Accio didn't work… can't cast the Cruciatus on her, not while she's wearing it…damned ring…"

"I KNOW NOTHING!" Hermione shrieked suddenly, her pupils dilating abruptly. She screamed in pain as the ring grew hot and burned her flesh.

"No!" The man shouted. "No! She can't die! My Lord! What shall I do?!"

"I KNOW NOTHING! I DON'T KNOW HOW HE DIED!" Hermione's cries echoed through the hall.

Just as suddenly as her seizure had begun, Hermione stopped moving.

She was dead.

***

"Hermione?" Harry gently shook Hermione's shoulders. She had been whimpering and twitching in her sleep. She'd been muttering, _I know nothing, _over and over.

"W-W-What?" Hermione woke with a start. "Harry!" she turned to Harry.

"My God, Hermione, are you all right?" Harry pulled the shivering Hermione to his chest and kissed the top of Hermione's head. Her shivers and shakes subsided.

Hermione explained her dream to Harry.

"What did the man look like?" Harry pressed worriedly.

Hermione shook her head, her eyes staring blankly. "I don't know… blonde?" She narrowed her eyes. "Yes… blonde."

Harry paused. Then he gasped. "I know who it was, Hermione."

Hermione stared anxiously at Harry. "Who?" she pressed.

"Lucius Malfoy."

A/N: Oooh… a premonition! What's going to happen next?! Stay tuned!!! Please Review!


	2. Chapter 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

****

CHAPTER 02

"Lucius Malfoy?!" Hermione stared open-mouthed. "You know, Harry, I do believe you might be right… how fearful."

She was silent for a moment, then said very quietly, "It was only a dream."

Harry bit his lip and looked away. He stared into the pale blue sky for a few moments, lost in thought. After a number of minutes, he felt the gentle touch of Hermione's fingers on his shoulder. He flinched.

"Sorry," Hermione muttered, removing her hand.

"Don't be," Harry coaxed, "You just startled me. That's all." He took her hand and gently kissed her fingers.

Hermione stared at her hand. Harry, still kissing Hermione's fingers, raised his eyes to gaze into her face. Her sleek hair, russet-colored with ginger highlights, shimmered in the gentle sunlight, and a few stray strands blew in front of her face in the soft breeze. She smiled, biting her bottom lip, and leaned down to kiss Harry's forehead.

Harry's heart quickened. He tried to control his breathing as he moved his kissed up Hermione's arm and towards her neck.

Hermione gulped and closed her eyes, a smile still on her face.

Grinning widely, Harry laid a muted kiss on each of her eyelids, then her cheek, and finally, her sweet lips.

Hermione kissed Harry back and grinned.

Harry pulled Hermione closer to his body and put his hands around her waist. Hermione leaned into Harry's next kiss, absorbing all of his tall, strong body into her small one. Suddenly there was a gasp from behind them.

Standing in Harry's room was Ron, his mouth open and his eyes wide.

"What were you two doing?!" Ron whispered frantically.

Harry got off of Hermione very quickly. Ron scowled. "No sex!"

Hermione couldn't help giggling. "We weren't having… oh Ron…"

"Well, it would've turned into that had I not entered the room," Ron pronounced very matter-of-factly.

Harry shook his head and smiled. "Ron, I was only kissing her. A lot."

"No snogging, then."

Harry cracked up.

Ron wasn't laughing. "It's not funny!"

"It is, though," Hermione insisted, her smile fading.

"What if you'd been seen by my mum or something?" Ron put his hands on his hips. "Be more careful, please."

Hermione and Harry climbed back into the room and sat on the bed.

"Sorry," they both mumbled.

There was an awkward silence. Ron cleared his throat. "Did you know Seamus Finnegan asked Ginny out?"

"He _didn't!_" Hermione gasped, laughing.

Ron nodded. "He did. She's been to his house thrice this summer, and come back with a very guilty look on her face every time. She went all the way to Ireland to see him." He shook his head in near disbelief.

Harry grinned.

"I'm going to get some breakfast," Ron said, "Though no one else is up yet and I don't expect anyone to be up for a few hours…" he winked. "I'll just… lock this." He slipped through the door, twisting the lock first.

Harry smiled again. "Oh, Ron…" he mumbled.

Hermione stood up and cleared her throat. "Well, I'll let you rest for a bit, then." She turned to leave.

Harry grabbed her arm. Hermione stopped walking. She turned around.

"No… stay." Harry flashed his knee-weakening smile.

Hermione melted. "All right, then," she said quietly, sitting on the bed beside Harry and taking his hand in hers. She stared out the open window with a content look upon her face.

She looked so beautiful, Harry thought.

***

He's so handsome, Hermione thought to herself, still gazing out the window. She wanted to kiss him, wanted to touch him.

"It's chilly," Hermione noted, shivering as a cold breeze blew into the room. "I'll go close the window."

"Or you could get under the covers," Harry suggested innocently, "Nice and warm under here."

Hermione chuckled. "I'm sure it is."

Doubts though she had, Hermione wanted more of what she'd gotten on the roof, so she peeled back the thick quilt and climbed in between the sheets.

"That's much better," she whispered.

"Is it?" Harry asked, wrapping his arm around Hermione's shoulder and pulling her closer to him.

Hermione nodded as Harry leaned down and kissed her. He touched her face gently.

"Harry?"

"Mm hmm?"

"Do you still like Cho Chang?"

Harry flinched. "No." he said automatically. "Not at all. Not anymore."

"If I… asked you something, would you… would you think I was a prat?" Harry asked cautiously.

"No, I don't think so," Hermione replied. "But I suppose it depends. What are you going to ask me?"

"Hermione," Harry took a deep breath, though his voice still shook, "I have loved you for ages. I didn't realize it, but I have. I still love you. Will you…. Would you… be my girlfriend?"

There was a moment's silence.

Hermione suddenly grinned widely. "Of course I will be your girlfriend, Harry, I love you, too…" she kissed him. "I just can't believe ---"

Her next words were silenced by Harry's ecstatic kisses.

***

"Father, I won't."

"You will, Draco, it is not your decision."

Draco Malfoy shot a look of disgust at his father, Lucius. "I am nearly sixteen, Father--"

"You are nothing but a silly little boy," Lucius spat, narrowing his steely eyes.

There was a silence broken only by the crackling of the angry fire.

Draco shook his head and glowered. "I am not your son."

Lucius started. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open in horror. "Not my son?! You are me in every sense of the word."

"I am not you! I am Draco, my own person with my own mind, Father!" Draco's voice faltered and he looked away. "You think I am still eleven years old, wrapped up in my heroic father. You are no hero. You're a villain who cares nothing for anyone but himself. You care only about your own progress in the social and financial aspects of life, but what about when you die, Father? What then?"

Lucius sank into an armchair near the fireplace in the dimly lit study and rubbed his temples. He closed his eyes and sighed, "How you've changed, Draco."

Draco had indeed changed. His once slick, oily appearance had been changed to a more relaxed look. His blonde hair had grown out a bit, and he'd let a few strands fall in front of his face, with his slightly tilted blue eyes and sharp chin. His frame and smile were appealing; he was quite handsome.

"You are accurate, Father. I have changed. I am no longer deaf. I am no longer blind. I hear your words. I see what you've done. Can't you see how very wrong you are? How very… ignorant --"

"I will NOT be spoken to like that!" Lucius shouted, standing up from his chair and clenching his fists.

Draco shook his head. His green robes glowed bright green and his sapphire eyes shone with odium in the firelight. "Father, I have no more respect for you. I will NOT be a Death Eater."

"You'll be a poor Auror, that's what you'll be," Lucius spat. "Penniless, like that stupid prat Arthur Weasley."

Draco swelled with rage.

"Psh." Lucius pronounced. "You're becoming a Muggle-Lover, Draco. And when the Dark Lord rises again, you'll be sorry, you'll be on the losing side!"

"The Dark Lord hasn't been seen in months!" Draco hissed. "Dumbledore is stronger than the Dark Lord will ever be again!"

"That old fool!" Lucius scoffed, his voice full to the brim with malice.

"I've had it, Father." Draco said seriously.

"Oh, you've had it, have you?" Lucius replied, an amused look on his slimy face.

"Yes." Draco looked grave and offended. "I'm leaving."

"And where are you going?" Lucius tried to hide his panic, his eyes flashing.

"I'm going to London. I've got my Gringotts key." Draco attempted to look confident. He extracted a tiny golden key from his inside robe pocket. Then, Draco turned and exited the study. A few minutes later, he returned, lugging his heavy trunk filled with everything he'd need for school. Then, without a glance back, he muttered, "Goodbye, Father."

Draco kicked the heavy wooden French doors open and gazed out into the thunderstorm. "Tell Mum I said goodbye," Draco mumbled. He walked out into the rain and to the sidewalk. There, he extended his right arm, and soon, the multiple-floored, purple Knight Bus pulled up. The doors opened, and Draco looked up into Stan Shunpike's bright, merry eyes. "London, please," he said. "Diagon Alley."

***

Ron yawned as he stretched.

"Morning already?" He groused.

In the twin bed across the room, Harry too awoke. "I think it must be," Harry responded. "Most unfortunately."

"I suppose that's… ow…" Ron had sat up too quickly; his head was pounding.

"Y'okay?" Harry whispered. Fred and George were still sleeping.

Ron nodded mistily. "I suppose that's what we get for playing Exploding Snap and Wizards' Chess with Fred and George 'till three in the morning."

"Correction," Harry pointed out. "That's what **you** get. **I'm** fine. Heh heh!" Harry laughed teasingly.

Ron stuck his tongue out, strongly resembling a six-year-old.

"Think we'd best be off to breakfast, then," said Harry.

"Yeah," Ron agreed, crawling out of bed and shivering.

The two boys changed sleepily into wizard's robes. (Harry had decided he preferred dressing like a wizard to dressing like a Muggle boy.) Harry wore bright red, in honour of Gryffindor. His floor-length robes were made from luxurious crushed velvet and clasped with golden clips in the front. Underneath the robes, he wore a white button-down shirt and black pants. Ron wore hideous orange robes that clashed horribly with his hair. Ron's favourite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, wore orange robes, and Ron had always wanted to look like the Chudley Cannons. Underneath **his** robes, Ron wore a black Chudley Cannons T-shirt and jeans.

On an ordinary summer day, Harry wouldn't really have wanted to wear floor-length robes, but today was dreary and wet. Cold raindrops dribbled down the windowpanes, and the chilly dampness permeated everyone to the bone.

Harry and Ron crept out the door and down the stairs. Under normal circumstances, the two boys wouldn't be awake at six in the morning while on holiday. They wouldn't be heading down to breakfast until ten or perhaps eleven. However, today was not a day of normal circumstances. Today was the day that Ron, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Nora, Fred, and George went to get fitted for new robes, buy new books and restock on Potions ingredients. Also, they planned on going over to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour for some sundaes.

The two boys reached the base of the stairs and entered the Leaky Cauldron.

"Morning, boys," said Tom, the innkeeper and bartender jovially. "Up rather early, aren't we?"

"We want to be first in line this morning to buy our school things." Harry's voice echoed in the empty pub. Or at least, he **thought** it was empty.

"Your friends are in a parlour over there." Tom pointed to the private parlour in the corner of the pub. He grinned toothily.

"Thanks!" Harry said, sounding somewhat puzzled.

"No problem, boys. Can I get you something to drink?" Tom asked.

"I'm a bit chilly," Ron replied thankfully. "How about a butterbeer?"

Tom nodded with a smile. "Same for you, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded gratefully. He reached in his pocket and pulled out some silver sickles and paid Tom, who poured the two butterbeers and handed the steaming mugs to the boys.

Ron and Harry headed past the empty tables, several still with chairs and wooden stools laid upside-down on their surfaces. They unlatched the heavy mahogany door and pulled it open. Sitting and talking at the table were Hermione, Ginny, Nora and…

****

Draco Malfoy?!

"What's **he** doing here?" Ron demanded irately. He snarled and narrowed his eyes.

Harry said nothing but stared in horror.

"Look, chaps, there's a perfectly logical explanation to all—" Nora began, but was cut off by Ron.

"There is no explanation. **He** does not consort with **our** kind." Ron looked daggers at Malfoy, who didn't look up. In fact, Malfoy gulped as he stared into his butterbeer, and he had his eyes lowered. He almost looked… could it be? Harry thought. He looked… shamed.

"Ron!" Hermione's eyes were red, as though she were about to cry. "Just hear us out, all right?"

Ginny didn't say anything at all. Actually, Harry noted, she was staring blankly out a window.

Harry sat down next to Hermione, who placed a soft good-morning kiss on his cheek.

Ron stood, clutching his butterbeer mug as though he feared Malfoy would steal it.

"Sit down, Ron," said Ginny quietly. Ron sat.

Malfoy stared intently into his torrid butterbeer.

"Draco," said Nora in a soothing voice, "Why don't you tell them what happened?"

Draco cleared his throat and looked up groggily. "First of all," he began, his silky voice still carrying a hint of its old iciness. "I want to apologize. To all of you. To both Weasleys… I'm sorry I mocked your… er… financial situation."

Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Draco looked impassive. "And to Potter… I'm sorry I was so jealous of your fame and glory. You really are a very nice person."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. Were his ears deceiving him?

"And to Granger… I mean… _Hermione_… I'm sorry I made fun of your Muggle heritage." He cleared his throat again. "I was so very wrong. But earlier this summer, I had a revelation. An awakening, you might say. My parents… well, everyone knows they're Dark. But I don't want to follow in their footsteps. I know as well as anyone else that He-Who-Must… I mean… Lord Voldemort," Everyone at the table but Harry flinched, "is rising slowly again, gaining power and followers again… but I refuse to be one of his followers. I don't want to kill anyone. I don't want to get involved in all of that. _I don't want to be a Dark Wizard."_

"Good for you, Draco!" said Nora enthusiastically.

Draco smiled weakly and continued. "I want to be on the Good side. Even if it's the losing side. I don't care anymore. I don't care if we're winning right now, I just care about not killing anyone, not going to Azkaban… just because my parents are evil doesn't mean I have to be evil, too."

Harry squinted. Ron looked suspicious.

"I suppose you're right, Malfoy, but… how are we supposed to trust you? You were so… cruel… to us these past few years," Harry said quietly.

"I know, Potter… **Harry**… but, can I convince you to forget the past? Or at least forgive it? I had to run away from home to escape the Dark Arts, and for what? To be doubted. Not to be believed. Look, I'm sorry about what I've done, really, really sorry. I can't change the past, but I can change the future."

He extended a trembling hand for Harry to shake. Reluctantly, Harry gently shook Malfoy's hand. Ron was not so easy to convince. He eventually shook Malfoy's hand, though, and after a bit, the entire group headed over to Madame Malkin's for robes.

"You know, Draco, this is the place that I first met you," Harry said in a falsely tender voice, batting his lashes jokingly at Malfoy.

Malfoy started to say something, but his comment turned to a genuine smile.

The bell on Madam Malkin's door tinkled as the crowd of teenagers entered the store.

"Hello, dears. Hogwarts robes?" Madam Malkin pulled out her magical tape measurer, which zipped around each of the students in turn, taking their measurements.

"Let's see, we have Miss Granger, Miss Weasley, **Mister** Weasley, Miss Cardeen, Mr. Potter and… Mister Malfoy…" Madam Malkin looked a bit shocked at the concept of Malfoy and Harry entering a store together. Harry didn't blame her. It was almost common knowledge that the Malfoys hated Harry, and vice versa.

After everyone had been measured and bought their robes, they went to Florean Fortescue's. Everyone got sundaes and sat outside at a large table.

"So, tell me, Draco," said Nora, "Are you a prefect this year as well?"

Draco nodded. "Yes. Most unfortunately, it's me and Pansy Parkinson."

"You have regrets, don't you?" Hermione said quietly after a moment's silence.

Draco sighed. "Yes. I wish I hadn't been born the son of Lucius Malfoy. And I must admit that there was a time that I **was** genuinely evil. People will have a hard time believing I have a desire to change my ways. They won't like it. They'll doubt me." Ron slid down a bit in his seat. Draco continued, "I'm in Slytherin. You Gryffindors and Ravenclaws would be really surprised to see how many future Death Eaters there are in Slytherin House. I wish I could change houses. But I've had an idea."

"What's that, Draco?" Pressed Nora.

Draco looked directly at her. "I'm going to be a spy."

Harry looked puzzled. "How do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm going to stay in Slytherin House and listen to what the students say about what their parents are doing and the like. I'll take that information straight to Dumbledore. He'll believe me, I know he will."

"Draco, that's going to be really hard to pull off…" Hermione sounded cynical.

"How do you figure?"

"I mean, you hanging out with Ron and me, and especially Harry, people are going to be really suspicious on both sides." Hermione explained.

Draco sighed.

"Perhaps you shouldn't be seen at Hogwarts being friends with us," Harry suggested. "You could pretend to hate us."

Draco chuckled. "**That** might be a bit too much fun."

Hermione grinned. "But it just might work."

"When should we start?" asked Harry.

"Nowish?" suggested Draco.

"Sounds good to me," shrugged Ron. "It's easier for me to pretend to hate you than try to like you, Draco." He smiled weakly.

"I'm going to take that as some sort of twisted truce, Weasley." Draco stood. "I've got to go to the Quidditch store. I've got to get some wood polish for my broomstick. I'll meet you all at the Leaky Cauldron at eight. Meet me in the private parlour. We'll have supper."

Everyone nodded. Draco walked away.

"I can't believe it!" said Hermione. "Draco… **not** evil… It's amazing!"

Harry nodded. "It's… a bit odd, I know, but… well, I think I actually believe him."

Ron bit his lip. "I don't know… he seems really serious about it. I mean, people do change. I suppose. But he's been so very mean to me these past few years…"

"We've got to try to get past that," said Nora. "I think deep down, he's really a good person."

"You know, Nora, I think you fancy him!" Harry gasped.

Nora went pink. She cleared her throat. "You know, I've got to go the Magical Menagerie to get some things for my cat."

"I've got to go to Ollivander's," said Ginny. "This stupid cheap wand. Needs to be replaced, really, but I can't afford it. I'll just have to see what Mr. Ollivander can do for it."

"I'm going to the book store," Hermione told them.

Ron rolled his eyes. "I'm going to stay here and finish my ice cream."

"I'll come with you, then, Hermione," Harry said, standing and extending a hand to help Hermione out of her chair.

Everyone went their separate ways, having agreed to meet for supper at eight.

Hermione and Harry walked down the cobblestone street to Flourish and Blotts, the bookstore of Diagon Alley. It was stale and stuffy inside the hot, crowded shop.

Hermione hurried over to the History section. She scanned the spines excitedly. "Ooh!" she squealed, heaving a large, heavy book off of one of the shelves. "_An Examination of Hogsmeade: The Only All-Magical Village in Britain_. I've been waiting for this to come out for **ages**!"

"Nice," Harry tried to sound enthusiastic. "You buying it?" He rubbed dust out of his eyes and coughed.

"Oh, no, it's much too expensive. I'll just stay here and read it for a while." Hermione sunk into a huge, overstuffed armchair.

"Oh." Harry said, hoping Hermione would suggest that he could go somewhere else. The dust was really getting to him. "Er… I'll buy it for you."

"Oh, Harry, that's very generous of you, but no thank you," Hermione looked up from the book. "It's too expensive, and besides, I'm only interested in a few things in here. Although, I will have to tell Ron about it; there's a whole chapter on Zonko's Joke Shop."

Harry forced a laugh.

"If you want to go," Hermione said kindly, "I'd be perfectly fine with that. I can't imagine you want to stay in an old bookshop all day."

Harry nodded gratefully, and turned to go. Then, he turned around and kissed Hermione lightly on the lips before he left. Just across the way was Quality Quidditch Supplies. Harry hadn't remembered that Draco was in that store, too, before he entered.

Harry was examining a small book that had been on display, _Seekers' Strategies_, when he heard a voice from behind him.

"Fancy seeing you here, Potter." It was Draco, sitting on a large pouf and reading _Quidditch Through the Ages_. He closed the book and tilted his head. "Here to learn how to be a **good** Seeker? I could help you there."

Draco's voice was smooth as milk, but his eyes flashed and he widened them, along with curling up his mouth in a small, crooked smile to show Harry (and hopefully only Harry) that he was joking. Harry decided to play along.

"Shove off, Malfoy. As I recall, you've never won a game against me."

Malfoy tried to sneer, and muttered under his breath, "Arse hole…"

Harry tried not to laugh; Malfoy did the same.

Harry pretended to be looking at a shelf filled with some more Quidditch books, but he whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "Nice."

"Thank you." Malfoy whispered back, hiding his mouth behind his book. "Not so bad yourself. What are you doing here?"

"Forgot you were here."

"Oh."

"I've got to go get some Potions stuff. I'll leave."

"No!" Draco whispered hurriedly. "**I've** got to go get Potions stuff."

"Well, come over there in a few minutes. I'll probably be gone."

"All right. Then leave."

Without another word, Harry flashed Malfoy a hateful look before sauntering out of the store. He went next door, into a small shop filled with barrels of Potions supplies, some of them quite disgusting.

"Eurgh," Harry thought to himself as he examined a barrel of pickled pig snout. "Let's see," Harry mumbled, "I need… powdered beetles… uh oh."

Malfoy had entered the store.

"What, are you stalking me or something?" said Harry loudly.

Malfoy smiled sarcastically but said nothing as he looked at some solid gold cauldrons.

"What are you doing here?" hissed Harry.

"I got bored."

"Right…"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Hey, look, Potter, toad's feet." Malfoy picked up a toad's foot and put it in Harry's hair. Harry scrunched up his face, tipped his head forward, and the foot fell into a golden cauldron.

Malfoy leaned over the cauldron to extract the foot. Harry reached for a large bottle on a shelf labeled "Banshee Blood". Harry uncorked the bottle and slowly poured the lavender liquid over Malfoy's blonde hair.

"Potter!" hissed Malfoy.

"I'm just playing along," whispered Harry roguishly.

Malfoy froze. "L-l-look," he whispered, pointing at the cauldron, which was now steaming.

"What happened?" asked Harry frantically.

"I don't know… toad's foot and… what was that shit? Banshee Blood?! Eurgh… I don't know what happens when you mix those two!" Malfoy was frenetic.

They soon found out. The toad's foot, drenched it Banshee Blood, began to hiss as it steamed. Then it began to hiss louder…

Then it exploded.

Bits of toad's foot and splatters of Banshee Blood drenched Harry and Malfoy.

"Eurgh!" Harry said.

Malfoy grimaced. "Good thing nobody was around, Potter, or we'd be in big trouble."

It was true. The manager of the store, who had been standing behind the counter, had taken the only other customer in the store back to the storage room to show her some of their items not in the front room.

"What do you suppose is going to happen?"

"I don't know…"

"_We'd better get out of here, and fast," _thought Harry.

"_Good idea."_

Harry widened his eyes in shock. "Can you hear me?" he whispered.

Draco, looking even more shocked than Harry, nodded slowly. His jaw dropped. "Harry… this potion's given us telepathy!"

Harry blinked. "Merlin!" he gasped. "We can talk in our brains… weird…"

"_So, you can hear me?"_

"Yes… this is bizarre."

"Sure is… let's get out of here, before the manager comes back!"

The two boys ran out of the store and went two opposite directions

***

That night, at seven fifty-five, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Ron, and Nora were seated around the table in the private parlour. They'd been there for ten minutes.

"Where's Malfoy?" demanded Ron, "Bet he doesn't show."

"Relax, Ron, he's got five minutes 'till meeting time," Ginny said.

__

"Malfoy, where are you?" Harry thought.

There was a moment's pause.

__

"Stop pestering me. I'll be there in a few minutes. I'm waiting on purpose."

"Why?"

"So no one thinks I'm actually with you all."

"Oh. All right." 

"I'll be there in ten minutes or so."

"He'll be here in ten minutes." Harry said aloud.

Everyone stared at him. "How do you know that?" questioned Hermione.

"Er…" Harry debated whether or not he should tell them why he could talk to Malfoy.

"_Can I tell them that we have this power?" _Harry asked Malfoy.

__

"Er… tell them about the accident, but say you don't know what was in the Potion."

"All right."

"There was an accident in the Potions supplies store today," Harry said. "Malfoy and I got telepathic powers from it."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "What was in the potion?"

"We're not sure, exactly, but it exploded."

Everyone looked impressed. "So you… you can talk to him in your head?" Hermione said in awe. "That's incredible! They've never been able to work out how to make a Telepathy potion!"

Harry smiled nervously.

There was a knock on the door. Tom walked in, carrying a tray of butterbeer mugs. "How's beef stew sound for you all?" he asked.

"Sounds great, Tom. We're expecting one more," Hermione said.

__

"Do you want beef stew for dinner?"

__

"Eurgh, no, I hate stew. See if they've got any fish and chips."

"Have you got any fish and chips?" Harry asked suddenly.

Tom nodded.

"Could you please make one of those stews a fish and chips?"

Tom nodded again and walked away.

"I didn't know you don't fancy stew, Harry," Ron said.

"I like stew. Malfoy said he doesn't like it, though."

Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "This is amazing!"

Harry laughed.

Malfoy walked into the parlour. "Hello, all."

"Evening, Draco," Nora said, beckoning Malfoy to the seat beside her.

Draco sat. "Did you happen to order me fish and chips instead of the stew, Harry?" he asked.

Ron looked amazed.

Harry nodded. Everyone ate dinner, laughing and talking like old friends. After supper, everyone headed upstairs to bed. They would need to be up early the next morning to get to King's Cross Station to catch the Hogwarts Express.

***

__

"How did she find the ring?"

"I'm not entirely sure, Master, but when her body disintegrated, the Ring was destroyed."

"Did you steal her soul before she died?"

"Alas, Master, I could not touch her. The Ring provided too much protection."

"Not even her heart?"

Lucius Malfoy was silent for a moment. "I am sorry to say, Master, that I was not able to obtain any of her soul at all." 

The Dark Lord swore loudly. "I **needed** that girl's soul! I could have at least gotten by with her heart!"

"The thieves are at Hogwarts, Master."

"And all this year, they have been able to steal nothing?!"

"Nothing, Master."

The Dark Lord swore again. "They are too young."

"One is a sixth-year, my Lord."

"And the other?"

"She is a fifth-year."

"I see. She is of no further use to me as a thief."

Lucius was shocked. "What shall I do with her, Master?"

There was another silence.

"Kill her. But first, steal her heart."

"Yes, Master."

Hermione awoke with a start. She was drenched in cold sweat, and her erratic breathing was fast and shallow. Once she had settled down enough to stand up, Hermione put on her bathrobe and slippers and sneaked out the door. She headed down the corridor to Harry's room and knocked.

After a few moments, Harry came to the door, groggy and bleary-eyed.

"What is it, Hermione? Are you all right?"

"I've had another dream, Harry. Another premonition."

Harry was silent as Hermione told him all about her dream. Finally, he spoke.

"I think it is time to tell Draco."

***

A/N: Ooooh, another "premonition"! What does Draco think about Hermione's dreams? Read on and find out!!!! REVIEW!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 03

Hermione sat on the edge of Harry's bed, shivering from the traumatic dream she'd experienced. Harry had tried, unsuccessfully, to awaken Draco through telepathy, so he had gone down the hall to Draco's room to get him.

Hermione absentmindedly pulled at a loose thread on the blanket that slackly covered the lumpy bed. She glanced up as the hinges of the door squeaked. Harry and Draco walked into the room cautiously, joining Hermione on the edge of the bed. Harry took Hermione's cold, shaky hand in his and whispered,

"I told him."

"How much?" Hermione inquired.

There was a pause in which Harry's eyes flicked over to Draco's.

"Everything."

Hermione nodded and turned her head to face Draco. Draco sighed. He closed his eyes and Harry saw his eyelids quaver slightly. Draco licked his bottom lip and opened his mouth to speak.

"I had no doubt," Draco began in a quaking voice, "That my father is conspiring for something this year. I didn't know what it was until you told me these details, but I knew it was something. That's why I left home. I thought… it was just getting too dangerous. Someone…" Draco paused and blinked tears out of his eyes, "Someone's going to die."

"Who?" Hermione gasped.

Draco shrugged. "Dunno."

"I don't know what's going to happen," Harry said, "But I know one thing for sure."

"What's that?" Hermione asked quietly.

"We've got to stick together."

Draco and Hermione nodded their agreement. Without another word, Draco stood and left the room. He walked slowly and resolutely down the hallway and Harry and Hermione heard the door to his room creep open, then close quietly.

"Best be off to bed, then, Hermione," Harry suggested, kissing Hermione on the cheek. He wiped away a stray tear from her eyes and, very softly, rubbed her back. Hermione sighed and looked up at Harry. A hint of a smile crossed her lips.

"Harry," she whispered, "No matter what happens to us… I love you more than you can ever realize… more than anything."

Harry smiled and tried to say something back, but nothing came out. Laughing softly to herself, Hermione leaned up to kiss Harry's open lips and murmured, "You are my only refuge now, Harry…"

Harry gently picked Hermione up and carried her like a baby to her room. He placed her on the bed and tucked the blankets around her. 

"Are you warm enough?" he asked.

Hermione nodded.

"Goodnight, then," Harry whispered, "I'll see you in a few hours."

Hermione nodded again. 

Harry grinned obliquely and headed for the door. He turned the knob and stepped into the corridor. With one last look into the room, he whispered into the darkness, praying that his words would find Hermione's ears.

"Goodnight, Beautiful."

***

Draco lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling above him as if it were the most riveting thing he'd ever beheld. He'd been lying there for nearly two hours after leaving Harry's room. He couldn't sleep. Draco tried to clear his mind to relax, but try as he might, haunting memories of the summer plagued his mind.

Try to think of something else, Draco told himself. Like Quidditch or something…

__

"My Lord, you look wonderful."

"Do not lie to me, Malfoy," a squeaky voice muttered. "You know as well as I that without Her, I can never become *half* of what I was!"

"But my Lord, you grow stronger every day…"

"Every day without her Soul, her *mind*, her very existence, Malfoy, is a day less that I have to do my work."

Lucius lowered his head. "I have tried, my Lord. I am still trying…"

"You are not trying hard enough!" the little voice snapped. "Must I replace you? Or are you competent enough to carry out my will?"

"Oh, My Lord, I am competent! I am loyal, devoted…"

"And what of your son? He has shown little promise."

Lucius felt his cheeks burn. "Draco will not be useful to our cause. I see him drift farther and farther away with every… every…"

"Murder, Lucius? With every murder?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"Though, as I recall, he has done *no* work for me whatsoever." The voice was filled with acidic annoyance. "Why is he still at Hogwarts? He is in danger there this year."

Lucius bit his lip. "If he is in danger, Lord, then so be it. I have no fatherly love for him anymore."

"Now *that* is loyalty, Malfoy. No compassion for Traitors… perhaps you *are* competent after all."

The all-too-proverbial voice faded as Draco attempted to picture the Quidditch Pitch early in the morning. The smell of the grass, the sound of the flags atop the hoops fluttering in the breeze… but all he heard was the shouting…

_"Shut up, Narcissa!"_

"Don't tell me what to do, you sick bastard! I've been following your little childish hi-jinks for long enough! I'm tired of it!"

"And you think I give a damn?" Lucius yelled, pounding the table with his fist to punctuate his anger.

"I have lost hope for the cause, Lucius. It is far too dangerous. Too outlandish a plan to risk." Tears began to stream down Narcissa's face.

"Narcissa, you know *none* of the details of this plan. So shut your frigging mouth until you do."

Narcissa nearly screamed in her rage. "I know more than you think I do!"

"Shut up, bitch!" Lucius pulled out his wand. "Don't… try… me…" he growled.

Narcissa reached frantically in her robes pockets for her wand. She glanced up at Lucius. He was absentmindedly twirling a wand in each hand… 

He had her wand. She was helpless. Unarmed.

"Lucius…" Narcissa begged.

"Get down, Narcissa." Lucius grinned maliciously.

"No… Lucius… please…"

"It's a pity, darling," Lucius said sarcastically. "I didn't want it to have to come to this. But it seems you leave me little choice." He rolled up his sleeves.

Just think of the first game, Draco thought, starting to panic. If he couldn't get his mind off of these painful recollections…

The feel of the Golden Snitch in his gloved hand, Draco tried to convince himself. The victory lap after the first goal was scored… the feeling of the wind in his hair as he perfectly executed a Wronski Feint… almost there… almost out of the memories, Draco thought. But then… the sound of the crowd was drowned out by an acrimonious voice…

__

"My Lord, we have not been able to obtain the Glumeba Ring."

"Why not?" Lord Voldemort demanded.

"We are unable to, ah, retrieve it."

"You *know* she has it!"

"We can not capture her, Lord. She is protected by it."

Voldemort snarled in frustration. 

"She will be at Hogwarts this year, my Lord," Lucius assured the frazzled man.

Voldemort contorted his rotting face into what slightly resembled an evil grin. "Good. We will get her there."

"Who will help us, Lord?" Lucius asked.

"You know the Girl has agreed. She will be of invaluable assistance."

"My Lord, you are certainly placing an enormous amount of trust in a girl of so few years…"

"She is fourteen."

"A mere child."

"You dare contradict me?" Voldemort's tone was icy.

"No, No! Never, Lord…" Lucius bowed apologetically. "A minor observation… but, ah, you *do* trust her?"

"Certainly, Malfoy. You forget… my own mother was a Scot."

Draco snapped back into reality. He closed his eyes and sighed. He was consumed by an odd feeling, a mixture of agony and compunction. It was overwhelming.

Try as he might to fall asleep, Draco was up for good, so he decided to finish packing everything he needed for the train ride to Hogwarts. Besides, Draco decided, the Sun was beginning to rise. The world would be waking up soon.

***

Sitting on the Hogwarts Express and staring blankly out the window, Harry reminisced about the past five years of his life. A three-headed dog, a dragon, a fugitive godfather, and a mortal enemy… a far cry from the sleepy life on Privet Drive Harry had left behind.

"Harry?"

Harry flinched as Hermione laid her hand upon his arm. "Sorry," she mumbled. Harry smiled slightly at her.

"You just startled me, that's all," he told her.

Hermione stood behind Harry and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She kissed the top of his head and lay her cheek on his messy black hair.

Harry felt his heart quicken as Hermione's hands crept down to his chest. He felt her graceful fingers slowly trickle over his gray sweater and smiled to himself.

He leaned his head back to gaze into Hermione's angelic face. Her long, straight hair was swept back in a low, loose ponytail that hung over her right shoulder. A few stray strands of hair hung in front of the left side of her face. Harry reached up and tucked the hair behind Hermione's ear. She smiled sweetly at him before leaning down to kiss him.

Harry took Hermione's hands and held them in his own. He kissed her again, and, as he did, he felt Hermione's grip on his hands tighten. 

Very suddenly, the door to the compartment opened to reveal Ron standing in the corridor with an amused look on his freckled face. Harry and Hermione pulled apart instantly. Ron just smiled and shook his head. He took a few steps into the corridor and shut the door behind him.

"*So* sorry to interrupt," Ron began, trying not to laugh, "But there's nowhere else for me to go. You see, all throughout the train, people are doing the exact same thing you were when I walked in!" Ron donned an air of mysticism and nodded knowingly. "Mysterious."

Hermione stifled a giggle.

"All right, Ron?" Harry asked, indicating for Ron to sit across from him.

Ron sat. "Ace, mate. And yourself? Or should I say the two of you? Or possibly the *three* of you?" He glared at Hermione with feigned accusation.

Hermione grinned widely and Harry laughed.

"So what's the news on the train, Ron?" Harry asked.

"Well, by far the biggest story is that Malfoy's going out with Nora."

"*What*?!" Hermione's eyes widened.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Well, well, well… *Mister* Malfoy," he muttered.

_Malfoy! _Harry thought admonishingly. 

__

What? Malfoy answered innocently.

__

What the hell is this I hear about you and Nora?

It's true. I'm going out with her.

What?! Harry exclaimed in his head.

__

You know what, Potter? I'm a tad bit preoccupied right now… could we talk later?

What are you preoccupied with? Wait. Don't answer that. I don't want to know.

No, no you don't. Just think about it. Formulate a nice image in your mind.

_Eurgh. I'll talk to you at school._

All righty, then. Draco answered in a sing-song voice.

"I can't believe it… Draco and Nora… Eurgh." Hermione shuddered. After a moment, she turned to Ron and said, "So, where are Seamus and Ginny?" Harry noticed a twinkle in Hermione's eye.

"Dunno. Making out somewhere." Ron shrugged.

Harry chortled. 

"Hey, Harry, have you seen Cho Chang? She got even more hot than she was last year!" Ron grinned from ear to ear.

Harry felt Hermione take a step backwards. He immediately reached up and laced his fingers with hers. 

"No, Ron, I haven't," Harry answered, "But if you like her, good on ya, mate. Ask her out, then."

Ron blushed. "I wish," he mumbled. "Never in a million years…"

"Oh come on, then, Ron. Ask her out. See if she likes you," Hermione urged. "You never know…"

Ron looked from Harry to Hermione. "You really think so? You think there's a miniscule chance she might say yes?"

"Yes." Harry said firmly. Ron chuckled at his certainty. 

"Ron, if you don't ask her now, how will you *ever* know?" Hermione demanded.

Ron nodded, slowly and grimly, as if he were hearing his death sentence read to him. "All right, then," he said quietly. "If I'm not back in ten minutes it's because I've died of embarrassment."

Ron stood and left the compartment. Hermione wrapped her arms around Harry again.

"Where were we?" Harry asked in contrived bemusement. 

Hermione stepped around so that she was facing Harry. She sat on his lap and Harry wrapped his arms around her waist. Harry took Hermione's chin in his hand and turned her face to his. He kissed his girlfriend very softly and closed his eyes. 

"Oh yeah… *that's* where we were…"

***

"Gee, I wonder who our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher will be *this* year," Ron said sarcastically as the three friends traipsed up the stone steps leading to the Great Hall. It was nearly time for the Start-Of-Term Feast and Sorting Ceremony.

Hermione shook her head. "I dunno…"

"So she really said yes, Ron?" Harry asked, for the seventh time.

"For the seventh time, Harry, yes, she said yes." Ron beamed in false provocation. 

"That's incredible, Ron… you and Cho. Cho and Ron. Ron and Cho. So cute. So very…" Harry sighed, turning on a very fruity voice. "So romantic."

"Oh, stop, Harry, you're embarrassing me…" Ron responded in an equally feminine manner, lisping his 's's

Hermione shook her head. "How is it you are both fifteen years old, yet you both manage to act as though you're about six?" she giggled. "Or perhaps just extremely gay?"

Harry and Ron laughed. The three entered the Great Hall and found seats at the Gryffindor table near the front of the Hall, by the staff table.

Harry scanned the table for any new faces.

"There." he said suddenly.

"What?" Hermione asked. She was putting on her black pointed hat.

"That teacher. She's new." Harry gestured to the one unfamiliar face at the staff table. Sure enough, there was a very petite woman who looked to be no more than twenty years old. She had long, flaxen curls and a thin, rather sharp face. Her most notable features were her ears. They were pointed, Harry noticed, much like an elf. Her nose was small and shaped like a ski-jump. She had somewhat large eyes that were such a dark shade of brown that they looked nearly black. Her lips, small and crimson, were fixed in a little smile that seemed very friendly. Harry noted that, like tiny Professor Flitwick, this new professor's feet did not touch the ground, and that her wrists and forearms were extremely thin. He could only speculate that the rest of her was equally as emaciated.

The Great Hall continued to fill up, and the din of hundreds of antsy students swelled. Seamus Finnegan and Ginny Weasley came to sit by Harry, Hermione, and Ron, both with grins on their faces.

"What happened?" Ron interrogated.

"We got caught," Seamus said proudly. "By McGonagall."

"And you're *proud* of this?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I'm just happy she didn't take any points off!" Ginny grinned breathlessly.

Ron just shook his head and eyed his goblet very intently. He seemed to be staring beyond it, however.

"Admiring from afar, Ron?" Harry asked in amusement.

"What?" Ron said defensively.

"Cho. You're looking at her. But why are you doing it through a wine goblet? Why don't you wave at her?" Harry asked. He hoisted Ron's arm into the air and waved it in the direction of the Ravenclaw table. Ron's face turned as red as his hair. Hermione laughed.

Cho had her back to Ron, but Padma Patil, a fifth-year Ravenclaw, saw Ron waving, and informed Cho of her boyfriend's behavior. Cho turned around, and, with a huge smile on her face, waved back at Ron. Then, she blew him a kiss. Ron blushed, if possible, even harder.

Just then, there was the clanging of a goblet from the staff table. The chaos in the Hall died down as the students turned expectantly to Professor Dumbledore, who stood at the staff table, ready to deliver his start-of-term speech.

Dumbledore wore magnificent burgundy robes with gold embroidery that seemed to dance in the candlelight. His polished gold glasses sat on the end of his long, crooked nose, and his tall wizard's hat matched the burgundy-and-gold ensemble.

"Welcome," Dumbledore said, just barely loud enough for everyone in the Hall to hear him, "To another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." He paused to look around the Hall. "I am pleased to see so many faces back again this year. I am sure you are all quite eager to begin your studies once more," Dumbledore chuckled. "And I am very happy to tell you all that this year, Hogwarts will be initiating our first season of Intramural Quidditch. This will be an activity beginning after the last game of the regular Quidditch season and is open to all students who wish to participate. If you are interested, please see Madam Hooch no earlier than Christmas."

Harry suddenly remembered that he wasn't wearing his Prefect badge. He whipped it out of his robes pockets and quickly pinned it to his lapel. Hermione flashed him a sly smile.

Dumbledore continued with his speech. "Mister Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to inform you that in addition to the Dark Forest being very strictly forbidden, students are not permitted to swim in the lake. Apparently students were dragging in mucky messes from the slime of the lake."

Filch, who was leaning against a doorway, petting his skinny cat, nodded once at Dumbledore.

"And he would also like me to tell you that if he catches anyone with any products from Zonko's Joke Shop in Hogsmeade within the castle premises, he will not hesitate to assign detentions."

Fred and George Weasley, seated farther down the table, shouted boo's and other yells of dissent at Dumbledore, who merely smiled and said, "But, I am sure that a select few of you will not hesitate to promptly break this rule, as our first Hogsmeade weekend occurs one week from today."

Now Fred and George cheered loudly. Nobody else in the Hall made any noise, but they all grinned good-naturedly at the comic seventh-years.

"Now, I shall distribute your schedules…" Dumbledore clapped his hands once, and hundreds of papers fluttered in through a window and into the hands of the waiting students. "I believe that prefects will find the password to their common rooms for this week in the upper-right-hand corner."

"Now, I must introduce our newest staff member, Miss Clarice Prinker." Dumbledore raised his voice, and silence fell throughout the hall.

The tiny witch stood up on her chair and waved pleasantly at the students. There was mild applause.

"She will be our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Dumbledore said proudly, "And I am sure you will all thoroughly enjoy her revolutionary teaching methods."

"Look at Snape," Ron whispered, "He's pissed."

"Well, *that's* nothing new," Hermione answered, "He always hates the D.A.D.A. teacher."

Indeed, Snape was glaring at Professor Prinker with a look of utter contempt and derision.

"Now, it is time for the Sorting Ceremony!" Dumbledore announced, gesticulating toward the tattered Sorting Hat that sat on its traditional three-legged stool. "And, if I am correct, I believe the hat would like to sing a little ditty to the first-years, so let us bring them in!"

The heavy wooden doors at the far end of the Hall burst open, and Professor McGonagall entered, holding a scroll and wearing her finest red and gold velvet robes. Behind her trooped a collection of frightened first-years, all of them wearing looks of confusion, some with a hint of amazement, others with pure terror on their faces.

McGonagall joined Dumbledore at the staff table, and there was a moment of brief silence. Soon, though, the "mouth" of the hat (actually a tear in its ancient fabric) opened, and its cacophonous voice rang throughout the hall:

"I am a hat,

And I haven't any brains,

But with every passing year,

My start-of-term songs change,

So if you will be courteous,

And listen to my tune,

I can promise it won't hurt that much,

And will be over soon.

Ohhhhhhhhh…

More than a thousand years ago,

I was worn upon the head,

Of Great and Noble Gryffindor,

(Who, by the way, is dead…)

He decided to bewitch me,

And each year I sing a song,

And sort you all into 

The houses where you all belong.

If you're brave and of true spirit,

You belong in Gryffindor,

And pupils who are bookish,

Are what Ravenclaw is for.

If you're power-hungry, Slytherin

Is where you ought to be.

In Hufflepuff you go if you

Are true and trustworthy.

Each house is very dignified,

In its own distinguished way,

I'll find the right abode for you

To live and work and play,

And if I'm wrong,

I'll eat my seams,

For I am always riiiiiiiiight…

And that's the end of my great song,

I leave you with…

'goodnight.'"

There was thunderous applause and jovial laughter throughout the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall stepped up to the hat and picked it up. She unrolled her scroll and read,

"Dodds, Tweedsworth."

A pudgy boy with enormous blue eyes waddled up to the Sorting Hat and sat anxiously on the stool. McGonagall placed the hat upon Tweedsworth's head. After a moment, the hat exclaimed,

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor table rang with applause as Tweedsworth joined their ranks. Harry, Hermione, and Ron applauded each time a new Gryffindor was sorted. When the sorting had finished, Dumbledore stood once again.

"Now, I shall distribute your schedules…" Dumbledore clapped his hands once, and hundreds of papers fluttered in through a window and into the hands of the waiting students. "I believe that prefects will find the password to their common rooms for this week in the upper-right-hand corner."

Harry looked at his schedule. In the corner of the page, in miniscule, curly writing, were two words:

Iniquity Mortem

"What's it mean, Hermione?" Harry asked.

Hermione looked at her schedule. "It means: Death to Evil."

"Oh," Harry nodded.

"Now," Dumbledore said grandly, "Let the feast begin!"

Food instantly appeared on the tables. Casseroles, beef, chicken, soups, salads, sweets, and countless other decadences loaded the Hall. Everyone ate until they could eat no more of the rich, delicious food. Soon, Dumbledore stood again and said, "Prefects, please lead your classmates to your respective houses. Everyone please try to get a good night's sleep so you are fresh for your studies in the morning. Dismissed, everyone."

Harry and Hermione led the Gryffindors to Gryffindor Tower, where they were greeted by the portrait of the Fat Lady. 

"Password?" she demanded.

"_Iniquity mortem_," Hermione pronounced. The portrait hole opened, and the Gryffindors entered the common room. Harry directed the boys to their dormitories, and Hermione did the same for the girls. Instead of retiring to bed, however, Harry elected to sit in a leather chair near the fireplace in the common room for awhile. After an hour of staring absentmindedly into the flames, Harry heard footsteps behind him. He turned around apprehensively to see Ron standing behind him. 

"Hullo, Ron," Harry said quietly with a smile.

"Hadn't you best come on to bed?" Ron inquired.

"I suppose."

The two headed back to the boys' dormitories. Harry climbed into his familiar four-poster bed and snuggled beneath the covers. He needed his sleep: the Gryffindors had Potions first the next day, and they had it with Slytherin.

A/N: Whew! That took long enough!!!! Sorry, I PROMISE to update much more frequently! (hee hee, SL!) Hope you enjoyed this chappie. Next one should be up soon. (Oh, by the way, SL, I stayed up writing this for you until 2 AM!!!! You had better enjoy it!!!!) If you have any criticism or positive comments or anything please review, feedback is always welcome J ~*~Rigby~*~ 


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

"Harry!" Seamus shook Harry's shoulders and sighed.

Harry opened one eye. "Morning," he mumbled. "What time is it?"

"Nearly six-thirty."

Harry groaned. He reached over and fumbled about on his bedside table for his glasses. He wearily put them over his eyes and the blurry lines of the circular bedroom came into focus. 

Seamus had walked back over to his own bed and had begun to get into his school clothes. Harry supposed he ought to do the same. 

"Morning, Ron," Harry said habitually.

"He's not here," Seamus stated, in a rather annoyed voice.

"What?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

Seamus pulled his sweater on over his messy, sandy-colored hair and responded, "He woke me up at about five when he opened the door to leave. He hasn't been back since."

"Have you any idea where he's gone?" Harry asked.

Seamus shook his head and glanced over at Neville Longbottom's bed. Neville was snoring loudly. "We should wake him up," Seamus suggested.

Harry nodded, and Seamus walked over to Neville to rouse him. 

Harry pulled his woolen socks on and put his black shoes on over them. As he tied his shoes, he tried to think of places Ron could have gone. Perhaps to the owlery, Harry considered. But no, he decided, Ron wouldn't want to contact his parents on the first day of school. Maybe he'd gone to take a shower… but an hour and a half long shower? Then it occurred to Harry… Astronomy Tower… 

"He went to snog Cho!" Harry burst out.

Neville, groggy-eyed and drowsy, and Seamus, still half-dressed, stared at Harry.

"No shit, Sherlock," Seamus said with a smile.

"That fox…" Harry murmured, grinning internally.

_Guess what, Malfoy?_

There was silence.

_Malfoy?_

Still, no response came from Slytherin dungeon.

_MALFOY!_

What? Draco sounded very annoyed indeed.

_Where the hell are you? Why didn't you answer me?_

Why do *you* think? Draco seemed to think Harry were missing the obvious.

_Wait a minute, Malfoy, you're not…_

Anybody *missing* from Gryffindor Tower this morning, Potter?

Ron's with you?

Yes. He's here with Cho.

Harry sighed. _And you're there with Nora._

Very good, Potter.

I'll let you go, then. Harry prepared to pack up his bag with his books.

_Wait!_

What is it?

Well, the four of *us* have been here for ages, and we have to go to breakfast soon, obviously, but, erm… 

What, Malfoy? Spit it out. Harry ran his fingers through his hair and looked into a mirror. He had accomplished absolutely nothing. Harry picked up his wand and slid it into his robes pocket.

_Well, about an hour ago, Hermione came by…_

Harry stopped dead. _Did she think I was going to be there?_

I think so…

Oh, shit…

Yeah…

Harry closed his eyes and cursed inside himself.

_You'd better go find her, Potter…_

All right. See you at breakfast, then.

'Bye.

"Shit," Harry said out loud again.

"What is it?" Seamus asked.

"Er… nothing, I just… just remembered we have Potions first." Harry tried to grin.

Seamus nodded glumly. "Yep," he responded, turning away from Harry and packing up his books.

Harry sighed and ambled downstairs to breakfast. Upon entering the Great Hall, he immediately scanned the rows of tables in search of Hermione's face. Just as expected, Hermione sat alone at the Gryffindor table, surrounded by one empty seat to her left, two to her right, and two across from her. These were the usual chairs of Harry, Ron, Neville, Ginny, and Seamus. Harry felt a pang of guilt as Hermione turned the page of a very large book and dolefully took a bite of an apple. She looked very forlorn, Harry thought uneasily. He walked down the long table and very quietly stepped up behind Hermione. He put his hands over her eyes and said, "Guess who?"

"Morning," Hermione mumbled inertly. 

Harry frowned. He took the apple from Hermione's hand and took a bite of it. "Fanks…" he said as he chewed, hoping to make Hermione smile. Instead, Hermione merely turned another page with her left hand and reached her right hand back for the apple, wiggling her fingers expectantly.

"Look, Hermione…" Harry put the apple back in Hermione's hand, sighing sadly.

"Are you going to sit down, Harry?" Hermione said quietly.

Harry sat. "Look," he tried again. "I am *so* sorry about this morning… I didn't know! I didn't know I was supposed to meet you there… you have *no* idea how bad I feel…"

Suddenly, Hermione grinned widely.

"Wha…" Harry squinted suspiciously.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, turning to Harry and still smiling. "Did you honestly think I would get angry about *that*? You weren't *supposed* to meet me there, I just went on the off chance. I must say, I never expected… Ron, you know… and Cho? Very surprising of him, the things he was doing…"

"But Malfoy said…"

"Do you honestly think, just because Draco's on our side now, he's not got just a *tiny* bit of his mischievous side left in him?" Hermione was now trying not to leer.

Harry frowned again. "But you were in a bad mood when I came down here…"

"It's just," Hermione blushed. "I forgot to do some homework over the summer. That essay, you know," she mumbled, turning her focus back to the thick book in front of her.

"WHAT?!" Harry nearly screamed with laughter.

"Oh, shut up," Hermione giggled.

"Hermione Granger forgot to do some homework!" Harry yelled. "It's a miracle!" Harry stood up and reached toward the heavens in mock praise. 

Hermione shook with silent laughter. "Oh, screw it," she said, closing the book loudly.

"No, screw me!" Harry whined falsely. Hermione giggled again. Her attention quickly turned to the front of the Great Hall, where Draco, Nora, Ron, and Cho had just entered. Cho had Ron's hand firmly in hers, and she was walking about two steps ahead of him. Ron looked a bit flushed and bemused.

"Well, it's not hard to see who wears the pants in *that* relationship…" Hermione chuckled. Harry nodded.

Behind Ron and Cho entered Draco and Nora. Nora walked ahead of Draco, but Draco had his hands brazenly on Nora's tiny waist. Ron, Cho, Draco, and Nora walked off to the Ravenclaw table. 

Once at the Ravenclaws' domain, Cho led Ron to her seat and sat down. They spoke for a few moments before Cho stood, kissed Ron on the cheek a bit ostentatiously, and Ron strolled dreamily back to the Gryffindor table. Harry tried hard not to laugh.

"Have fun this morning, Ron?" Harry called out.

Ron waved absentmindedly to Harry and said, "Toast would be great, thanks."

Hermione snorted into her glass of milk.

"What, are you inebriated or something?" Harry laughed.

"No!" Ron said defensively. "Just… preoccupied." He sat down and put his elbow directly into a bowl of porridge. "Aw, shit!" he exclaimed. Harry grinned crookedly. 

"Yes," Hermione said, looking at Ron but speaking to Harry. "Definitely drunk."

Hermione nudged Harry and gestured across the table with her eyes. Nora was sitting in her chair over at the Ravenclaw table, and Draco stood behind her, running his fingers through her hair and kissing her neck. Nora leaned her head back and she and Draco got right to making out in direct view. 

"Sick," Harry mumbled. "Just plain sick…"

Hermione wrinkled her nose and gulped. After a few moments of the unwanted show of affection, she and Harry heard steps from behind them. 

"Mister Malfoy!" 

It was Snape. Draco whipped his head up and leapt backwards away from Nora, who stared determinedly into her cereal. 

"M-m-morning, P-P-Professor!" Draco stuttered.

_Nice, Malfoy. Very nice. _Harry taunted Malfoy internally.

_Shut up, bastard. At least I've got a girlfriend who isn't a prude._

Say that out loud, ass hole.

Temper, temper, Potter… It was only a joke.

Uh-huh… Harry scowled at Malfoy.

"Mister Malfoy, I certainly needn't tell you that such… er… antics, you might say, are not appropriate at breakfast time? In *public*?" Snape crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows. Harry was just waiting for him to say, 'With a *Ravenclaw*, no less?!"

Malfoy gulped and bit his bottom lip. "No, sir," he said quietly.

"Let this be an warning to you, then, Mister Malfoy. And *you* as well, Miss Cardeen." 

Nora bowed her head in ignominy.

"Ten points each from Slytherin and Ravenclaw." Snape sauntered off angrily.

_Yes, Draco… *Very* nice._

Harry received no response. He shrugged and returned to eating his breakfast.

***

Just three months earlier, Draco Malfoy would have abhorred having a class with the Gryffindors. Now, though, things were a little bit different. Now they weren't so much his enemy as his saving grace from the vice of Slytherin house. Even so, he had to keep pretending to despise Harry Potter, or things would look a little fishy.

Draco didn't have his old posse anymore; Crabbe and Goyle had flunked out of Hogwarts upon receiving bottom marks on their finals the previous year. 

Draco clunked his cauldron down on his desk and began removing his Potions ingredients and books. He sighed as he opened his Potions textbook. Fifth year students at Hogwarts studied Part II of _Intermediate Potions_, having completed Part I the preceding year. Draco's copy of the tome was getting rather beat-up, and he was starting to resent not purchasing a new book. There were still bits of parchment stuck here and there in the text, which Draco extracted. Some had little notes on them, like "Complete pages 65-68 for Tuesday" or "Acumen Potion due next Friday" while others had letters on them. Draco found a particularly interesting one from Goyle:

"Draco,

I am board. This class is boaring. When do we have Transfiggiratin? I hate that class, to. Only maybe it's cuz I hate the teecher. I'm mad cuz there isn't no Qwidditch this year. If the girl from Bobaton wins this contest thing I'm gonna be real pissed off, cuz my dad say the other school's more good at teeching the good stuff. I dunno. I wood not no. I have never been anyplace other than where I been. Which is here and home. Oh well. Well I spose I had better go. So I guess I will talk two you at brekfist. No wait we had brekfist already. I guess lunch. I dunno. Well bye anyways.

You're friend always,

Goyle"

Draco couldn't help but chuckle at Goyle's complete and utter idiocy, along with the spelling and grammatical mistakes that occurred throughout the entire document. He tucked the paper safely away in a folder before realizing that it was very telling of the previous year.

_Oh, Hello, Malfoy._

Shove off.

You don't have to pretend to hate me. We're in our minds now.

Draco frowned. _Oh, yeah. Well, maybe I really *do* hate you!_

Ha. You wish.

All right, all right, Potter. What do you want?

When is the Hogsmeade weekend again?

This weekend.

Fun.

Right. See you later, Potter.

Draco turned around to see Harry sitting next to Hermione at a table. Harry nodded in false dourness at Draco, who shook his head while trying not to smile. 

"Silence. Now."

Snape had entered the dungeon. Total silence hung throughout the entire room. Draco shut his book quietly and looked up at the formidable man heading the class.

"Welcome back," Snape said in a voice barely perceptible. "I trust you all had, er… *pleasant* summer holidays. I know I certainly did." He smiled rather awkwardly and looked as though he had expected people to laugh as if he had told some kind of joke. Snape cleared his voice uncomfortably and continued. "Well, then, let's get right to work, shall we? You all seem bright-eyed and bushy-tailed enough. Take out your notes." Snape's voice was completely monotonous. There was a shuffling as the Slytherins and Gryffindors pulled out parchments, quills, and ink and prepared to take notes. Snape immediately launched into a lecture about the effect of banshee blood on the human mind.

_Hey, Malfoy, wasn't there banshee blood in that stuff that gave us this whole thought transference thing?_

Draco tried to remember. _Yeah. I think so, _he responded.

_Hm… interesting._

"Mister Malfoy, are you paying attention?" Snape was standing directly in front of Draco and looking at his parchment. Not a single word had been written down. 

"Sorry, sir," Malfoy mumbled, dipping his quill in ink and hovering it over the parchment, waiting for Snape to resume the oration.

"My, my, my, Mister Malfoy. Off to a brilliant start of the year, aren't we?" Snape was bitterly sardonic. "A chastisement in the dining hall for a public display of affection *and* not paying attention in the first class of the day. Very atypical of you, Draco." 

Malfoy bit his lip. "Sorry, sir," he said again.

Snape sighed. "Anyway," he said loudly, turning back to the class and continuing his lecture. "As I was saying, banshee blood causes extreme irreversible memory loss when ingested by itself. The effects of it when mixed with other ingredients is widely unknown, with the exception of a select few ingredients. For example, when mixed with liquefied bats brains, banshee blood is essential for a potent physical strength potion. However, the effects of banshee blood on humans when mixed with most other ingredients is generally untested out of fear and concern of health consequences…"

Draco glanced edgily at the clock. Only thirty minutes of the class left.

***

Harry traipsed down the corridor with a grin on his face, greeting old acquaintances he hadn't seen since the previous year and carrying his new Quidditch robes slung over his shoulder. He'd just received permission from McGonagall to start training the Gryffindor Quidditch team on the pitch in two weeks' time, once McGonagall had found Harry a new Keeper. 

"Harry!"

Harry turned around. Hermione, looking flushed, was jogging down the hallway. 

"Hello, gorgeous," Harry said, extending his hand. Hermione walked up beside him. Harry wrapped his arm around Hermione's hips and the two walked together. "What's new?"

"Just came from Arithmancy. Wanted to meet up with you before DADA."

"We've got that next," Harry said, puzzled. 

"I know. It's with Prinker."

"Mm hmm…" Harry murmured.

"Well, she was just in the Arithmancy classroom. Doesn't have a class second hour, you know. And she is the nicest woman I've ever met. She's got some wonderful ideas, you know. First thing we're doing, starting tomorrow, is learning how to create defense buffers."

"That's very advanced," Harry noted, his voice marked with surprise.

"I know. She thinks we can handle it, though." Hermione grinned.

"Well, at least you can. You're bloody brilliant," Harry smiled as well.

Hermione blushed, but leaned up to kiss Harry on the cheek. The two had come to the DADA classroom, and they were the last to arrive. Harry was surprised to see that upon entering the classroom, he found students relaxing in armchairs and laying on fluffy rugs, chatting happily. Professor Prinker herself was seated Indian-style in the center of the floor, lost in casual conversation with her pupils. 

"Ah, Harry, Hermione," she said joyfully as the two bewildered-looking fifth years cautiously stepped into the unusual scene. "Now we can start. All right, could everybody quiet down a bit please? Harry and Hermione, you can sit anywhere, just get comfortable."

Still a bit alarmed at the stress-free environment very rarely found at Hogwarts he was beholding, Harry situated himself on a squishy lime-green beanbag chair next to Hermione, who lay on her stomach on a spongy, bubble-gum pink blanket. 

"All right, then," Prinker said into the silence that had fallen. "I'm Professor Prinker, as you all know. Now, I had planned to actually do something constructive today, but as I figure you must be doing that in all of your other classes, I think we should try and have a bit of fun in here seeing as it *is* the first day and all. We'll start work tomorrow. Or maybe the day after that, we'll see how things go."

From next to him, Harry felt a nudge. Ron was grinning at him. Harry smiled back. 

"She's cool," Ron whispered. Harry nodded enthusiastically.

The Gryffindors spent the rest of third hour DADA playing games and talking with Professor Prinker informally about the plans for the year. Harry decided that this was his new favorite class. After all his classes were finished and he'd eaten dinner and completed his homework, Harry decided to relax in the common room. 

"Hello, Harry," Hermione sat in an fireside chair near Harry. It was around one in the morning, and everyone else had gone to sleep.

"Hi," Harry grinned.

Hermione sighed contentedly and gazed into the warm, crackling flames. 

"You look so beautiful," Harry commented after a few moments' silence. Even in the dim firelight, Harry could see Hermione blush.

"Thank you, Harry." Hermione muttered. 

Harry took his glasses off and lay them on the table beside him. He rubbed his tired eyes and ran his fingers impatiently through his hair, which only stood up more. He loosened his tie, took off his outer, black robe and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his white shirt. 

Hermione was staring directly at him with a sly smile on her face. 

Harry held out his arms expectantly. Hermione rose and walked over to Harry. She sat on his lap and turned sideways, burrowing into the couch with Harry. She kicked her Mary Jane's off and wiggled her toes like a little girl.

Harry ran his fingers through her long, sleek hair and took Hermione's hand in his. Lacing her fingers through his own, he began to hum an old English tune that he had the faintest memory of hearing as a child.

Hermione began to sing along, her voice barely above a whisper.

__

"Are you going to Scarborough Fair?

Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.

Remember me to one who lives there.

She was once a true love of mine."

"I think my mother used to sing me that," Harry said quietly. Hermione smiled caringly. 

"It's sweet that you can remember," she whispered.

"Just barely," Harry admitted.

Hermione smiled again. Harry leaned down and touched his lips to hers. He took her hands and placed them on his back. 

Harry's nimble fingers began to loosen the knot of her red-and-gold striped tie that was part of Hermione's unsullied, innocent uniform.

***

She felt as though she could melt right into him at that moment, wanting him more than she knew it was possible to want anyone. 

So this is love, Hermione thought to herself. This right here. This is what it's supposed to be like.

Hermione reached up and stroked the back of Harry's neck and felt him shiver. He began to kiss her with rhythm, never ceasing and only increasing in vim. He started to sigh very quietly, almost silently. Hermione could feel his bliss through his kisses and she only wanted to give him more of that thrill she could sense.

Hermione reached up and finished unbuttoning Harry's shirt and slipped his tie over his head. He smiled breathlessly as he reluctantly tore his lips from Hermione's. 

Hermione grinned and kissed Harry again. She pulled his head towards hers and began to kiss his neck. She could hear Harry's quickening breaths as she gently caressed his neck with her lips. Harry shifted awkwardly beneath her, and Hermione grinned internally. 

Good, she thought to herself devilishly. Hermione increased the velocity of her kisses.

Harry's hands abruptly flew to Hermione's shirt again, which he proceeded to unbutton. His trembling fingers began to stroke her smooth, slim stomach and Hermione shuddered under his seductive touch. 

Hermione touched Harry's chest as well, feeling his rigid muscles and perceiving the rise and fall of his torso as his breathing only further increased.

Harry swiftly hoisted Hermione off of his lap and put her down again on the couch, climbing back on top of her.

Hermione smile longingly at Harry. His hands went to her shoulders as he lay down over Hermione's diminutive body. He rest his head on her heaving chest and his hands reached down to unbutton his own pants. Hermione gasped as Harry kissed her fiercely. She loved the feeling of Harry, obviously stirred up a considerable bit, caring for her as if she were the most important entity in the world. Harry kissed Hermione with even more ferocity.

Without warning, the door to the common room opened. 

A gasp rang through the space. Harry leapt off Hermione, but it was too late. Hermione lay guiltily on the couch, her hair disheveled, her tie lying forgotten on the floor beside the couch, and her shoes on the carpeting. Harry looked equally as culpable. He stood, without his glasses, shirt, or pants on, wearing only his boxers and socks. 

Beholding the entire thwarting, ignominious scene was none other than a very dismayed Professor McGonagall. 

**************************

A/N: Uh oh!!!!! Harry and Hermione are in biiiiiig trouble!!!!! Bad Harry! Bad Hermione! Bad, bad, naughty little children! What ever shall happen to them? Expulsion? Detention? Will they get off without a punishment? Or will they suffer the wrath of McGonagall????? Stay tuned! Please review and lemme know whatcha think about this chappie and what you think should happen!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: WaRnInG!!! This chapter gets a little graphic at the end. You Have Been Warned of Its Explicitness!!!

Chapter 5

Professor McGonagall stood gaping at the horrific sight she was watching. 

"I… I don't believe it! You two! And both of you Gryffindors! Both of you *Prefects*!" McGonagall spluttered.

Harry was horrorstruck. What had he done? He would probably lose his prefectship now… let alone his Captainship of the Gryffindor Quidditch team…

But what about Hermione? Harry asked himself. She was the one who had actually wanted to be a prefect, and he (_You jerk, _Harry cursed himself,) had just taken that away from her.

"I must say," McGonagall said, looking very distraught, "That this… *behavior* is most unexpected of both of you! This is completely unacceptable! And for Merlin's sakes, both of you, put on some clothes this instant!"

She was looking now at Hermione, sitting static on the couch, and Harry, standing equally as motionless. Hermione began to frantically button up her shirt and clutched her tie in her hand. Harry reached for his pants and put them on while facing the fire. Incensed with himself, Harry irately fastened his pants and turned around. He donned his white shirt over his bare chest. Reaching for his glasses, Harry heard soft sniveling from beside him. Hermione was crying.

"Mister Potter," McGonagall said wearily. She paused. "_Harry_… I have known you since you were born. Your parents… we were very good friends… I should like to say they would not want to see you expelled." Tears began to well up in McGonagall's eyes. "And Miss Granger… You are the single most intelligent person in this school, if I may say so myself, and there is little doubt in my mind that you will wind up being valedictorian of your class. You are adroit in everything you try, Miss Granger, and there are proposals for you to become Head Girl once you are a seventh year. That goes for you as well, Mister Potter. They want you to be Head Boy. But look at both of you. Half-clothed. I am… shocked… _traumatized_ by what I have seen tonight. Now, may I suggest we attempt to, ah, give a cursory explanation to this entire disturbing experience?" She looked from Harry to Hermione. "Now?" she pronounced.

Hermione stopped sobbing for a moment. "P-P-Please, P-professor," she begged, "Please d-d-don't expel us…"

"Oh, Miss Granger, I have no intention of expelling you," McGonagall said, her voice softening. "In fact, I am torn as to whether or not to punish you both at all… what would happen if I took points away… as you know, all point deductions and reasons for them go up on the counting board… I can't imagine the contempt you both would be met with - along with Gryffindor House - for being caught… what is it you say now? For being caught _snogging_ in the Common Room…"

Harry almost chuckled at the irony of it all.

***

_Fuck, Potter, what the hell do you think you were doing?_

What are you talking about, Malfoy? And watch your language… my mind is rated strictly PG-13.

Ha. I'm terrified to see your sexy, PG-13 rated dreams.

Psh. Why are you cussing at me, anyway?

Shit, Potter, you think word doesn't get around this place quickly or something? Malfoy chuckled to himself. He had just been sitting in the Great Hall eating breakfast when fourth-year Colin Creevey had come sashaying in, proclaiming that the previous night, he'd snuck out of bed to 'meander', and he'd entered the Gryffindor Common Room at about half-past one in the morning, where he'd found Professor McGonagall chiding Harry and Hermione. Of course, rumours had spread like wildfire through the Hall, and, naturally, the entire school now knew their own version of the incident.

_Fuck you, Malfoy._

_That's Nora's job._

_Eurgh…_

Malfoy laughed to himself again. _I'm leaving. G'bye, Potter… oh, and, next time, Potter, don't get caught…_

_Yeah, yeah… with my luck, there won't *be* a next time._

Malfoy tittered once more. He looked at his watch. Ah, Malfoy thought to himself. The all-too-convenient advantages of having breakfast at seven-thirty and your first class not until ten.

Just as Malfoy was collecting his things to head back to the Slytherin Common Room to relax, he felt a gentle caress upon his shoulder. 

"Hello, Love," Malfoy said, without even having to think about it.

From behind him, Malfoy heard Nora softly murmur into his ear. "You know, darling, they don't use the Astronomy Tower until the late afternoon…"

Malfoy felt his appetite for Nora flare. "Mmm…" he hummed, "Wanna go?"

"Yeah," Nora purred. 

"That's good, because I've got a real Nora Craving," Malfoy heard his own breathing become rickety as he imagined what he and Nora could be *doing* in the Astronomy Tower. He listened to Nora giggle puckishly from beside him. 

"Draco," she said, "You are *so* handsome…" she playfully ran her fingers through Draco's stylishly unkempt blonde hair.

Draco stood quickly, gathered up his belongings, and started to walk towards the door, extending his arms behind him. Several seconds later, he felt Nora take his hands in hers. Draco didn't perceive it, (he was too blinded by desire) but as he strutted past the Hufflepuff first-years, he was walking right toward Professor Snape. 

"Not in public, Mister Malfoy," Snape rebuked. Draco let go of Nora's hands grudgingly, but heard a tiny laugh from behind him.

Stupid Firsties, Draco thought scathingly.

It was a long walk to the Great Hall doors. When at last Draco had opened the large, oaken egresses and walked out into the main vestibule of the school, he took his beloved girlfriend in his arms and kissed her zealously. 

"God, Draco," Nora mumbled through the kisses. "C'mon, lessgo… to…" Her words were suppressed by Draco's enthusiastic ardor. Draco stopped for a moment.

"The Astronomy Tower?" he asked.

Nora nodded, leaning her head upon Draco's shoulder. 

"Malfoy!" 

It was McGonagall.

"*How* many times? *How* many people? What *is* this school coming to?" McGonagall was ranting. 

"S-s-sorry, P-Professor," Draco leapt off of Nora.

McGonagall merely shook her head, annoyed. "I am getting quite sick of this nonsense.. But I suppose it is just something I shall have to, er, contend with… children these days," she said, stalking off. Draco specifically heard her mumble, "And Dumbledore, with his 'no punishment for PDA' tenet… most stupid thing I've ever heard…" 

McGonagall walked through the doors and into the Great Hall, but Draco and Nora continued on to the Astronomy Tower. 

"Snogging Nazi," Draco said crossly. 

***

_Malfoy?_

There was no answer.

_Malfoy?_

Still, no response came.

_MALFOY! _Harry gave up. He'd learned that if he'd tried thrice and Draco hadn't answered him, it meant he was off somewhere making out with Nora. 

Harry happened to be sitting alone in the common room, astonishingly bored and feeling exceedingly insipid. He wished Hermione were there with him, but chances were she wouldn't want to even take the chance of sitting on the same couch as him right now. Hermione was in her Arithmancy class, Ron was in the Great Hall playing Wizards' Chess with Cho Chang, and Draco was somewhere with Nora, so Harry merely sat staring into the fire he had built and stoked himself. He then realized that it was nine o'clock in the morning, and that it was nearly seventy degrees outside. So *why* had he lit a fire?

Harry shrugged. He got up and walked up the staircase to the Gryffindor Fifth-Year Boys' Dormitory, climbing onto his bed and extracting a sheet of parchment from his black messenger bag. He also pulled out a quill and some ink, and prepared to write a note to Hermione.

****

Dear Hermione, Harry began, **How are you?**

Harry eyed his letter. He suddenly crumpled it up, deciding to start over. When he'd finished again, Harry reviewed his second-draft note to ensure its aptness:

****

Dear Hermione,

Hello, Hermione. How are you doing? I am very bored, but it is a colossal consolation knowing that I will be seeing you in less than an hour. You know, Hermione, you are the one thing that keeps me going during the day. The very thought of your beautiful smile, intriguing conversation, and infinite wisdom are my very incentive for subsisting these days. If only you were aware of your perfection, Hermione. I will see you in about an hour. I love you more than you can ever know.

Yours ALWAYS,

~*~ Harry ~*~ 

Harry hoped Hermione wouldn't think the letter idiotic. She never *seemed* to think Harry's notes were stupid. 

Harry literally watched the clock for the next hour, waiting until it read "Nine - Fifty". He then gathered his things and headed off to his first class of the day, Care of Magical Creatures, with Hagrid, Ron, and Draco…

And, of course, with Hermione.

***

Hermione traipsed across the School Grounds, genuinely looking forward to her next class, Care of Magical Creatures. In her mind, Hermione began to think of all the people she'd get to see in that course. This year, three houses had been combined for one class rather than two, increasing the class size from twenty students to thirty. The fifth-year Gryffindors now had Care of Magical Creatures with the fifth-year Slytherins and Ravenclaws. Unfortunately, seeing just the *fifth-year* Ravenclaws meant that Ron wouldn't see Cho and that Draco wouldn't see Nora, but, as Hermione thought to herself, it was *their* fault for going out with people from other houses, in different years. *She* would get to see Harry for more than six hours every day. Hermione relished the thought of seeing Harry's face again. How long had it been since she'd last seen him? Twelve hours? She could hardly stand it. She was having Gorgeous-Emerald-Eyes Withdrawal. 

Hermione approached Hagrid's hut. Leaning nonchalantly against a fence, talking to the teacher, were Ron and Harry. Draco Malfoy stood on the other side of the lawn, with the other Slytherins, but looking extraordinarily uncomfortable. It must be awkward for him now, Hermione thought to herself, to have to associate with kids whose parents were Dark.

Hermione had a sudden, painful recollection of her second year, when Draco had called her a "Filthy Mudblood". The incident hit Hermione in the chest like an arrow as it shot from the back of her mind. And then, there was the episode at the Quidditch World Cup, the summer before Hermione's fourth year. Draco had harassed her there as well. Had he truly been Dark then? Hermione asked herself. He surely wasn't Dark now. Hermione could sense it, in his eyes. She could feel his repentance and atonement every time Draco tried to tell a story from his youth and his now-gentle voice cracked wearily. Hermione snapped back into reality, jarred by the occurrence of her nearly tripping over a rock in the grass. 

Hagrid saw Hermione and waved. Hermione gesticulated sanguinely in response. Harry turned around and smiled at her.

Hermione felt her knees weaken. If only, she thought, the lunch break were two hours instead of one… the Astronomy Tower wasn't used at that time of day, was it?

Hermione noticed two faces missing from the class: Parvati and Padma Patil, twin sisters. One (Parvati) was a Gryffindor, the other (Padma) was a Ravenclaw. 

"Where are the Patils?" Hermione asked Neville Longbottom, upon reaching the hut.

Neville shrugged but leaned in and said quietly, "No one knows where they've gone. They've both been missing since this morning."

"That's odd," Hermione said. "Curious…"

Neville nodded.

"Yeah, so, you know, for a fourth-year, she lasts a long time." An Irish accent reached Hermione's ears.

"Seamus," Hermione admonished, twirling around on her heel. "You're *not* bragging about Ginny?"

Seamus nodded devilishly. "She's good," he said. "The best I've ever had." Seamus donned a dreamy expression. Oddly enough, the Ravenclaw boys surrounding him actually looked impressed. Angered, Hermione took a seething step towards the fifth-year aspirant pimp.. She scrutinized him skeptically, then clucked.

"Okay, Seamus, you Wannabe Player… By the looks of it, she must have been the only one you've ever had, and how the hell you got her, I don't know. You must have charmed her into your bed, that's all I can say. Because Ginny Weasley can do *much* better than you. Provided she actually *did* you."

Hermione stormed off irately. The boys standing around Seamus howled with mordant, sardonic laughter, and Hermione could almost feel the heat from Seamus's doubtlessly scarlet face on the back of her neck.

***

"Gather 'round, everyone, gather round…" Hagrid spoke in a cheerful voice to the mass of fifth-years surrounding him. "Now, t'day we won' be doin' anything in class, because our first creature we're working on isn't available 'till tomorrow. That animal happens to be a phoenix, on loan from our very own Professor Dumbledore. The phoenix's name is Fawkes, and we'll be harvestin' some of Fawkes's tears to give to Madam Pomfrey. We'll also be takin' notes on 'im, t'compare to t'other types o' birds we're startin' the year off with. So fer t'day yeh can jest socialize, I s'pose… lessons will start tomorrow, though."

The students dispersed into chattering groups of friends. Harry cleared his throat and tapped Hermione on the shoulder. He nervously handed her his note and smiled timidly.

Hermione looked slightly puzzled as she unfolded the letter, but as she perused Harry's message, her expression melted into one of pure contentment.

"Oh, Harry," she mused. "All of these beautiful words are for me?" She grinned widely.

Harry nodded sincerely.

Hermione wrapped her arms around Harry. "You are so good to me," she whispered.

Harry was in heaven. "I wouldn't be any good if you weren't ten times better," he said. Hermione giggled. 

"I love you." She said candidly and sincerely.

Harry smiled. "I love you, too," he replied genuinely.

***

Later that evening, Draco sat at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, morosely staring into his soup spoon. He wondered if anyone could sense how very difficult it was to pretend that you were evil. Yet, Draco reminded himself, if he were to show his true self now, people would think someone had used a Memory Charm on him. 

"Draco, are you all right?" Millicent Bullstrode, another fifth-year Slytherin, stared cantankerously at Draco.

"Y-yes, fine, sorry. What were you saying?" Draco set down his spoon and took a sip of pumpkin juice from his glass goblet.

"We were just talking about the Patil twins," Millicent said in her whiny, nasally, cranky-sounding voice. She raised a hirsute eyebrow.

"Oh," Draco answered, trying to sound interested. "What about them?"

"Well, how they've been missing all day, and now they've just turned up, but something's weird about them. Or so I hear. I hear they're in the hospital wing, but that they won't speak or hardly move or respond or anything, that they'll only say one word: 'heart'."

"It's not good to spread rumours, Millicent," Draco said impetuously. 

Millicent raised the other eyebrow, looking slightly affronted. She straightened her tie, cleared her throat, and turned to the girl next to her, a first-year.

Yeah, that's right, Millicent, Draco thought to himself. Socialize with someone four years younger than you. That's *incredibly* cool.

Draco spooned some soup into his mouth. It was stone cold. It was then that he realized everyone else was eating dessert already. Oh, well, Draco considered. I'm really not that hungry anyway.

Draco was a bit preoccupied with thoughts of Nora. She had made a very odd comment that morning, which was why Draco had made the remark he had to Millicent. In the Astronomy Tower prior to CoMC, Nora and Draco had had an interesting conversation in which Nora had mentioned the Patil twins and had cited the word 'heart' at least 10 times (used each time in a non-romantic connotation).

Utterly disturbed, Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Ron Weasley had fallen head-over-heels for Cho Chang. Harry Potter was in love with Hermione Granger (who happened to love him back). Seamus Finnegan had the hots for his own girlfriend Ginny Weasley. And it was a postulate among Hogwarts socialites that Draco Malfoy was dating Nora Cardeen, the pretty fourth-year Ravenclaw. But did Draco Malfoy like Nora Cardeen as much as everyone else thought he did?

***

"Less than a week, Draco, less than a week." Hermione was fretfully impatient.

"And you told her that you loved her?" Harry asked skeptically.

Draco nodded. He bit his lip. "I dunno, Harry, I see you and Hermione and I just don't feel that with Nora."

"What don't you feel about her that you see in us, Draco?" Hermione asked curiously.

Hermione, Draco, and Harry were sitting in Hagrid's hut. It was the only place they could go to talk without anyone suspecting anything and/or listening in on them. Hagrid had learned of Draco's remarkable personality transformation, and had (surprisingly, Harry thought,) encouraged the emergent friendship between Ron, Draco, Hermione, and Harry that had arisen.

"In you," Draco began woefully, "I see what I think is (and will always be) true love. I know that sounds terribly puerile, cliché, and juvenile, but it's really not. What you two have is rare. I doubt I'll ever find something as good as what you both have. But what I've got now isn't half of what I see."

Harry looked at Hermione. Hermione looked at Harry. They both looked at Malfoy.

"Draco," Hermione said softly, "I do notice that you seem a bit reticent around her. Like you can't just… you know, *talk*. I don't know *what* Harry and I would be like if we couldn't be friends at the same time we were going out. We do the same things we used to do when we were just friends, and then some. We've maintained the same comfortable relationship we've always had, we've just gained an extra bit. And I really don't think we make Ron feel uncomfortable when it's the three of us. We're always careful to save the affection for, well, affectionate places. But what I notice with you is that Nora is *just* a girlfriend. Like, she's only good for snogging. I know that's probably not what it really is, but that's just what it seems like."

"Most unfortunately," Draco sighed, "That's what I feel like, too."

"You need to end it, Draco," Harry said regretfully. "Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but… yeah…"

Draco nodded disconsolately. He rose slowly.

"You know, Potter," he said suddenly, a trace of his old callousness returning. "We've got a Quidditch match coming up pretty soon."

Harry laughed. Draco's expression softened. "I'm no match for you whilst you're on your Firebolt anyway. But it is *only* the broom that makes the better Seeker, you know."

Harry chuckled again. "I think we'd best be going," he said. "Hagrid's still out back in the garden. Let's go say goodbye, then, shall we?"

The three said adieus to Hagrid and schlepped back up to the castle. Draco separated from the two Gryffindors at the Great Hall doors, where he had seen Nora.

"Good Luck, Draco," Hermione had whispered.

Hermione and Harry walked through the hallways for a bit. They had clearance, now that they were prefects, to be in the halls after hours.

"Want to go up to the Astronomy Tower?" Harry asked. "It's nearly ten. There aren't any classes there anymore…"

Hermione sighed happily and nodded. 

"Ah, the utter convenience of Prefectship." Harry said blissfully.

Once the pair had reached Astronomy Tower, they found a vacant corner. The two sat for a moment, when ---

"Ron?!" Harry exclaimed. 

There was a flinch from the opposite corner. 

"Harry, is that you?"

"Ron?!" Harry said again.

"Yeah… me and Cho… you and Hermione?"

"Yeah…"  
"See you later tonight, then…"

"Yeah…"

Hermione smiled. Harry couldn't help but laugh at Ron's extreme eagerness to get back to whatever it was that he was doing.

Good thing it's dark, Harry thought to himself. Hermione's hands were wandering.

***

Hermione had decided that tonight she was going to be uninhibited. Tonight she was going to show Harry what she had. Tonight… tonight was going to be decidedly Un-Hermione-ish. 

She leaned against Harry, who leaned against the wall. Her head started to slip a bit. Hermione felt Harry's strong hands take her head and lay it gently across his lap.

Hermione smiled up at her boyfriend. He took his glasses off and lay them beside him. Even in the darkness and shadows, Harry's emerald eyes were luminous. Harry stared down at Hermione, running his fingers through her long, sleek auburn hair. 

Hermione kicked her shoes off and wiggled her toes. It was a mild evening, not chilly at all. 

Harry leaned down deftly and placed a gentle, yet fiery, kiss upon Hermione's waiting lips. Hermione's nimble fingers found their way to the button of Harry's pants and, in an instant, the waist of Harry's chinos was past his boxers.

"Mmm, Hermione," Harry mumbled, hoisting Hermione up and putting her beside him, so that she could more dexterously do her work. Staring down at Harry's plaid boxers, Hermione craved what she knew was underneath. Her lithe fingers reached for the stretchy waistband, which she pulled down a few inches before giving an entreating whimper. Harry, sensing the inferno in Hermione's quick breathing, put his tender, sturdy hands on Hermione's elegant neck and soothingly dragged her down, putting her facedown in his lap.

Beseeching Harry with her whimpers, Hermione assiduously flicked her tongue over Harry. She was conscientious, stopping right when she knew Harry could hardly stand any more. She started to pull her head up, but Harry, wanting additional gratification, lovingly but firmly pulled her back down. Hermione smiled to herself, pulling his boxers even farther down. Whilst Hermione was hungrily conducting her business on Harry's groin, she felt his breathing getting faster and faster. She could also feel something getting harder and harder…

Harry let out a sudden moan, grasping Hermione's shoulders and bucking his hips robustly. Hermione grinned and began to lick Harry more assertively. After a few minutes, Harry lifted Hermione off of him and hauled her into the air. He briskly switched spots with her, so that Hermione was sitting against the wall. She sat, not bothering to cross her legs, though she was wearing a short shirt. Harry knelt and sat astride Hermione. Feeling deliciously submissive, Hermione whimpered again, and Harry once again satisfied her with a kiss. He also began to slowly, softly press his hips against Hermione's. Hermione wrapped her arms around Harry's waist. She pulled his boxers up and lay on her back on the ground.

Harry lay on top of her, getting into a rhythm and grunting softly with each push. Hermione bent her legs and placed a knee on either side of Harry's waist, supporting his thrusts and aiding in the steady rhythm. 

Harry's grunts began to grow louder and Hermione placed a finger upon Harry's lips to hush him with a gentle smile. Harry grinned innocently, his eyes zipping over to where Ron and Cho were too wrapped up in each other to be paying any mind.

Hermione's hair lay in a corona about her, and she blew a stray strand out of her face. Her hands lay forgotten upon the ground, acting as mere support beams for Harry's pushes, which were increasing in alacrity as well as in speed. 

Hermione had to admit, she was glad to be wearing a skirt, tights, *and* underwear, because if Harry hadn't been too busy to remove three layers of clothing, she knew he would be within her right now…

Harry's speed intensified more and more, and he began to grunt again. Although his tempo was rising, Harry somehow still managed to increase the force of each thrust as well. Hermione began to be wishing she *wasn't* wearing three layers of clothing…

Hermione could feel that Harry was reaching the breaking point, but she wasn't ready for it to be over yet, so, just as Harry was about to arrive upon his point of pure bliss, Hermione stopped the thrusting and rearranged the situation so that Harry, once again, was leaning with his back against the wall.

Hermione untied her tie and tossed it upon the ground.

Lucky, she thought to herself, that she'd worn her matching leopard-print bra and thong today…

She unbuttoned her blouse and untucked it from her skirt. Harry watched in heavenly agony as Hermione teased him.

Next she removed her skirt, lobbing it absentmindedly over to the tie, along with her white tights. Pulling off the blouse and disposing of it as well, Hermione knelt in only her lingerie, and this time it was *her* turn to straddle Harry.

She put his hands on her waist and swayed from side to side on his lap, dancing enticingly and ostentatiously brushing up against Harry's hungry, aroused groin. 

Harry moaned longingly, tipping his head back and pulling Hermione down harder upon his lap. He bent his legs and pulled his knees toward his strapping chest.

Hermione began to rock back and forth, leaning her back so it were touching Harry's thighs and pitching her hips against Harry's blatant signal of his pleasure. 

He moaned again, louder this time, and with more breathlessness. He gasped as Hermione sped up, tightening his grip on her waist and impelling her with his own hands.

Hermione stopped using her own muscles to move and just sat there. Harry drove her up and down, faster and harder than she was able to do on her own.

Abruptly, Harry let out a ripping cry and his grip suddenly loosened. Hermione felt his boxers get rapidly drenched beneath her and knew that he had reached the extremity of his delight. Still breathing quickly and with his eyes still closed, Harry kissed Hermione passionately and whispered feverishly, "Thank you…"

***

The End (Of Chapter 5, that is…)

A/N: SEE! I told you!!!! Lemony goodness! From YOURS TRULY! You asked for more "spice", so I gave you mo' "spice"!!! (Take that, Erin. LoL.) You like? You hate? LEMME KNOW!!! If you enjoyed this chappie, PLEASE tell me so I know whether or not to write more crap like this or whether to keep it strictly literary. J K PLEASE review!!!!

Love ALWAYS,

~*~ The Lazy Urchin ~*~


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